Pokemon World Championship
by Birdboy
Summary: Sixteen storied trainers from Kanto to Unova have gathered at Indigo Plateau for the pokemon world's inaugural world championship tournament.  Let the battle begin!
1. Match 1!  Archie vs Maxie!

Author's notes: I imagine that many of you, having clicked on this fanfic, are expecting a story – something filled with interludes and trainer interactions and all sorts of things going on around the background of the tournament which gives this fanfic its name. I am sorry to disappoint you. This fanfic is either an exploration of how much of a tale one can tell exclusively through pokemon battles or a thin excuse to string together a series of elaborately described battles with little concern for such things as plot or character development: it is more a sporting event than a story. If you've read one of my other battle fics, A Legend in Seclusion or Pokemon Battle, it will be something like that.

Also, I will be freely mixing in attacks from the TCG and personalities from Pokemon Special, although the video games are probably the strongest influence on this fic. Don't expect it to adhere too closely to a single continuity.

That said, unusual though it may be, I hope you enjoy this fic!

* * *

><p>They had come from Kanto and Johto, Sinnoh and Hoenn, and three all the way from Unova. Sixteen trainers had entered, each region allotted three, yet only Kanto needed much in the way of extra preliminaries, for defeating all eight regional gym leaders in the space of a year was no easy feat when rematches were forbidden. Indeed, only two trainers from Hoenn had pulled it off, and both of them had legends on their side; the third slot fell by default to the strongest of the Gym Leaders, who was undefeated against all challengers this season.<p>

Some distrusted each other. Cynthia and Cyrus would keep an ineligible pokemon out at night for fear of assassination, while Archie and Maxie made sure to bring a few of their minions as guards. Others couldn't be pried away from another. Red, Blue, and Green were thrilled that all of them had qualified, although they wished Kanto had a fourth slot: Red wasn't thrilled to have to eliminate Yellow in battle. And Silver and Crystal were similarly elated. A few more were acquaintances, coworkers, or simply rivals. Most, however, didn't know each other. The pokemon world, after all, was a big place, and this was the inaugural world championship, so it wasn't as though they had prior experience to draw on.

In later years, if the tournament was a success, and given the prestige of the trainers involved, the marketing budget, and the worldwide television audience, this blockbuster beyond blockbusters could not help but be a success, the sixteenth slot would go to the defending champion. This year, of course, there was no defending champion. Instead, Sinnoh had a fourth spot, in a manner of speaking, for the Azure Flute had been played and its call had been answered!

Then again, Arceus was far from being the only legend at the tournament. Great trainers have a habit of capturing great pokemon. Kyogre, Groudon, Zekrom, and Heatran had already shown themselves in the preliminaries, and who knew what other pokemon lurked inside the many poke balls sitting on their belts, waiting to be summoned when the moment was right?

The rules were familiar and yet strange. Trainers were allowed six pokemon total for the tournament, but could only use three pokemon in an individual battle, same as always, at least in the first two rounds. But rather than fighting on the plain battlefields they were used to, they would face a rotation of twelve arenas, and only one lucky pair would be fighting on anything familiar. The semifinals would be double battles, and the allowed pokemon would be therefore increased to four, and the tourney would finish with a 6-on-6 triple battle in which pokemon would not be restricted to four attacks.

To drag the tournament out and maximize television ratings, the battles would be two a day in the first round, then one a day thereafter. Theoretically, it could all be done in one day, but that wouldn't put it in primetime. The tournament was single-elimination, although group play might have dragged it out even more, but given that, despite Explosion, Perish Song, and a few other techniques, there were few ties in pokemon, it struck the organizers as redundant. In the event of a tie, trainers would instead fight a sudden-death, one-on-one overtime using pokemon who had not yet participated in the match. Were the triple battle to be tied, however, each trainer would instead choose one pokemon to be healed. Losing one and being eliminated was just more exciting, at least for the fans.

There were no brackets to fill out, no seeding, to the disappointment of many a fan. The matches would be random, and there was nothing to stop trainers who shared a region from meeting in the first round. Trainers would not even know who their opponents would be until the day of the match; officially because a true master had little need to prepare, in reality because the organizers - the regional elite fours, minus Unova's Caitlin and Alder, Sinnoh's Cynthia, and Johto's Karen - thought suspense would make it more exciting. Besides, they didn't want anyone getting overly confident.

And thus sixteen trainers came to stand before an enormous electronic scoreboard, wondering if their number would be called. Archie and Maxie of Hoenn glared daggers at one another, while Winona stood aloof from them, hoping they'd take each other out before she had to. Cynthia and Cyrus of Sinnoh did not speak, each of them focused on the silver haired, androgynous figure who had appeared when the Azure Flute was played – was their appearance even possible? But there was no getting around that this was in all likelihood Arceus in human form – yet what pokemon did the origin of all things choose? And worse, how could they beat such a powerful trainer? Palmer, on the other hand, was boasting about his invincibility, until Caitlin of Unova shot him a line about how he banned Arceus from his tower, although she herself likewise banned Arceus from her castle. Adler and N (he maintained his initial; Natural was just an awful name for him to go by) joked about their past, Silver and Crys chatted with Red, Blue, and Green like long-lost friends, while Karen gulped nervously as she looked over her poke ball – could her favorites really win against this kind of competition?

And then their faces came up on the board. Some would later suspect it had been rigged for an exciting opening match, although with trainers like these, exciting matchups were inevitable. The two of them had hoped to meet in the finals, but the first round was better than nothing. It wouldn't be their first match, but Archie and Maxie were more than ready to have another go at one another – the only question was whether the stadium and fans could survive such a fight!

They would have thirty minutes to rest, relax, and prepare, mostly so the announcers could hold a pregame show; trainers at this level didn't need much preparation. The other fourteen trainers made their way into the stands, which were protected from the fierce pokemon by an advanced psychic shield maintained by Sabrina of Saffron City and Tate and Liza of Mossdeep, along with their pokemon: another reason the matches were spaced out so much, for psychics were not replaced as easily as trainers. The organizers and fans alike nervously hoped it would hold, for Archie and Maxie were more than prepared to precipitate a tragedy for the title of strongest – even if they were even capable of stopping Kyogre and Groudon from doing likewise.

When Archie and Maxie finally made their way into the arena, the field had turned into a desert, sand whirling into both their eyes as they stepped into their respective trainer's boxes: raised steel platforms with stairs in the back, surrounded on three sides by a thin rail which bore a slight resemblance to the ones found in Viridian City Gym. They weren't common in pokemon battles, but in a match this tournament this big they needed something special.

Once they had climbed in, the two rivals caught sight of a Jirachi floating in the center of the arena in the midst of the sandstorm. "You guys should have something to fight for – something more than being the very best, like no one ever was," the Jirachi spoke in a high-pitched voice from its tiny mouth. "Whoever wins, I will grant them one wish," it declared, then vanished into the sand.

"Are you crazy?" Winona shouted angrily from her seat in the stands. "There are three trainers in this tournament who'd destroy the world as we know it if they win!"

Lance, from his organizer's seat in the front row, a column or so away, sank his head in a mix of fear and regret. "I had no idea this would happen. Jirachi... it was not the League Committee, but Jirachi who declared this. I'm sorry."

"Don't be stupid! Call off the tournament!"

"I..." Lance paused, "I can't. There's no telling what Jirachi would do then..."

While Lance, Winona, and people around the world shook in terror, Archie and Maxie stared at each other and smiled in the biggest grins of their lives. Despite their earlier defeats, their dreams were not yet over.

"Kyogre, go!" There was no questioning that Archie would lead that way – yes, it was predictable, but there was no shame in being predictable if the opponent had no way to stop it. And judging by how their last battle was going before Rayquaza intervened, Archie was convinced Maxie had no way to stop it.

"Crobat, come out!" Maxie responded with a mix of fear and hope – could this strategy really work?

Sand turned to sediment as the sandstorm suddenly ceased and a fierce downpour enveloped the arena, drenching the fans in the upper deck as the great leviathan emerged. Amidst the storm, a large, purple bat flapped its quickly waterlogged wings furiously, hovering in place.

"Crobat, Confuse Ray."

"Kyogre, Water Spout!" Maxie and Archie shouted simultaneously from opposite sides of the arena.

One of the few things more dangerous than a Kyogre in battle is Kyogre horribly confused as to where it is and who it is fighting. The Crobat struck first, its eyes turning red as it shot a strange ray at the enormous blue beast, the water level rising enough that it was now floating in a shallow pond where the desert had stood.

Kyogre swam around the arena in an awkward, erratic fashion, then attempted to ram the base of the stadium's stands while firing a narrow burst of water from its blowhole. It was aimed not at the enemy Crobat, but into the crowd; most was reflected back into the arena by the stadium's shields, but fans sitting on the upper deck were left soaked if not wounded. Kyogre, likewise, could only bounce off and roar in pain, although many fans swore they felt shaking and a few filed out the exits for fear of their safety.

From a strategic perspective, there was little reason to recall Kyogre at this stage. It was not badly damaged, and even a confused pokemon hit the target more often than not, although hitting one this relatively small and flying might be a little more difficult.

Regardless, Archie held up his poke ball, recalling his enormous pokemon, while his opponent did the same, enveloping his Crobat in a beam of red light.

Neither announcer understood. One would attribute his decision to the strange blue orb Archie possessed which tied him to Kyogre, suggesting he was as confused as his pokemon. The other would claim he was simply scared that the psychic shield would not protect him, because the trainer's box was not part of the stands. The stands were likewise full of scratched heads and baseless speculation – was it a ploy to save it for later in the match, was Kyogre only in there to set up rain?

If so, it didn't work, for the pokemon which emerged from Maxie's timer ball made the clouds part and give way to a piercing sunlight. A pond evaporated into a cloud of steam as the great red behemoth emerged from its poke ball, towering above the wet sand as a Sharpedo emerged on the other side, half-buried in the sand like a Garchomp.

"Groudon, Solarbeam!" Maxie shouted, pumping a fist into the air like his pokemon had already won.

"Sharpedo..." Archie began, hesitating. This was not the matchup he wanted; he hadn't expected Maxie to switch. As the light fell from the sky, he gave an order – the only one he could, with the time he had left. "Taunt!"

The Sharpedo made a series of aggressive gestures with its fins, communicating in a language of elaborate hand signals which only pokemon and experienced trainers seemed to understand, but the popped vein on Groudon's face left no doubt that it had got the message and was determined to beat down its opponent, tactics or no tactics. As the dark-type was engulfed in sunlight, it suddenly lost its bluster and cried out "Shaaaaaaar" in agony, then started to sink deeper into the sand, clearly unable to maintain its motion. When the red light of the poke ball shone upon it, only its fin could still be seen.

"Kyogre, go!"

It wouldn't be the first showdown between these two pokemon, and it wasn't at the most climactic moment, but the fans roared with excitement all the same. Kyogre and Groudon were crashing once more. The steam cloud rising above the arena grew heavy with water at Kyogre's appearance, and turned into a rain cloud dumping water back into the arena.

"As strong as Groudon is, you can't possibly expect to beat Kyogre in the rain. Water spout!"

"Groudon, you know what to do." Maxie answered with a smile.

Kyogre dipped its head as the water level quickly rose – it was already up to the entirety of Groudon's enormous foot – then fired a jet of compressed water from its blowhole, hitting the ground-type in its enormous, forward-facing chin.

It should have been enough.

It had been enough, last time. Ruby and Winona would deny it, but Archie swore that before Rayquaza intervened, Kyogre's attack had defeated Groudon in a single strike.

Groudon shook. It struggled to maintain its footing. It opened its mouth to reveal a small sash of red and yellow, which fell to the ground and disintegrated into nothing. And then it roared defiantly, and its roar split the heavens with Thunder, and a lightning bolt emerged from the cloud right above Kyogre, then struck it with a direct hit which conducted through the leviathan's water-type body, denying it the use of its fins.

Paralysis.

"A lucky hit." Archie scoffed. "And it won't be one I lose to." Kyogre opened its wide mouth, then chomped down on a green berry, and flapped its enormous flippers up and down, sending a large harmless wave Groudon's way. This wasn't Surf, just the ability to move.

Maxie gulped, giving a long, studious glance towards the Kyogre in an attempt to figure out how much damage the Thunder had done – did he still have a chance? It would all come down to this next attack.

"Hit it with another Thunder!"

"Finish it with Ice Beam!"

One blast came from above. The other was a direct attack. There were no crashing beams, no blocking each other and trying to fight back with more power, no dust to settle, just a beautiful chain of thundering yellow and frozen blue meeting at Kyogre, and then two fainted titans whose toppling shook the ground. This battle was a draw.

But Maxie still had two pokemon left, and Archie had one. _Their_ battle was not yet over.

"Walrein, go!" Archie ordered, opening his poke ball to let an enormous light blue pinniped nearly as large as Kyogre emerge into the growing pool of water which formed the stadium.

"Crobat, your turn again! Toxic!" Maxie answered, lobbing its poke ball like a boomerang into the other end of the arena, letting it open, and catching it on the bounce. This wasn't simply to show off, however; by the time the Walrein turned its enormous body around to face it, the poison-type's fangs were already buried deep into the ice-type's back, pumping the uniquely potent venom which all Crobat carry (among the fastest-acting in the pokemon world) into its enormous body.

And Archie laughed. And so did his Walrein.

"What's so funny? Your last pokemon will be knocked out in minutes!"

"Take a good look at your Crobat's fangs." Archie answered, and the shivering, waterlogged Crobat opened its mouth to reveal two badly impacted teeth, no longer sharp enough to bite through anything living. "Ice Body. Walrein may look like flesh-and-blood pokemon, but they contain as high an ice content in their body as a Glalie."

"Crobat, return!" Maxie shouted, panic creeping into his voice as he looked over his poke balls. There wasn't much on his belt he could actually use. Camerupt, his star, had no choice but to sit out the match; its weakness against water made sure of that. Mightyena was scary-looking, but the only reason he really kept it on his team was sentimentality; it wasn't actually strong enough to compete with beasts like Walrein and Kyogre. Swellow was fast and powerful, but fragile, and with Crobat's teeth injured he didn't think it could finish the job.

So there was one choice. One stupid, crazy choice. As an Avalanche filled the field, ice falling onto whoever he sent out, team Magma's leader decided to bring out a fire-type after all. "Come out, Houndoom!" He shouted, and the hell hound brushed off the avalanche with relative ease; the weight of the falling ice balls hurt the smaller pokemon, but the cold didn't.

The rain, on the other hand, was starting to really hurt – and it didn't help that it was pounding for so long that the Houndoom was basically swimming to maintain its movement.

"You can't seriously expect to beat me with a Houndoom in the rain. Walrein, Surf!" The Walrein slapped its flippers on the ground, then began to gather water – like a child splashing someone at the beach, if the child was a giant creating 30-foot waves.

"I don't – at least, not in the rain." Maxie said, smirking. "Houndoom, Sunny Day!" With a roar to the heavens, the clouds broke once again, and the light of the sun shined like a laser on the wave, evaporating half of it before it even made contact with the black dog.

The rest carried Houndoom into the shield at the end of the arena, then plunging to the ground – if not for it, it would have crashed into the tenth row of seats. And yet it still stood.

"Houndoom, use Overheat!" Water became steam. A stadium, a cauldron. The gates of hell had been opened by a pokemon Cerberus and set forth flame to scorch the earth. The fans who once brought ponchos for the rain were now removing sweatshirts and coats and cheering the whole while. The ground was red. The air was red. The Walrein was scorched, its white mane burning as it growled and stomped through the sand to the arena floor in agony, cracking the ground with its fury.

No one had told it to use Earthquake, but all things considered that was probably the best play. When the heat cleared, a Houndoom was found hidden in the cracked ground, unconscious.

"Houndoom, return! Go, Crobat!"

"Walrein, avalanche!"

"Crobat, protect!" Hail the size of Voltorb tumbled out of the sky at Walrein's command, yet the great pink bat spun around with its wings, dodging most of them and shredding the one which seemed like it would approach a direct hit. And Walrein stumbled, the poison beginning to work its effect.

"Team Magma shall triumph! Finish it with a Brave Bird!" Maxie ordered, and the Crobat spread its wings and dove the Walrein's way.

"Not. Yet. Ice Shard!" Archie shouted defiantly, as the Walrein spat an enormous icicle bigger than the Crobat it slammed into, who plunged into the giant ice-type with a force unjustified for its small size.

Two badly wounded pokemon faced one another, prepared for their next attack, and one collapsed from poison.

"Walrein is unable to battle! The winner of this match is Maxie!"

Maxie and Team Magma had won. For now.

They – he - still needed four more wins to take over the world. And there were plenty of trainers ready to stand in his way. Winona, leader of Hoenn's Gyms, and an old enemy almost as hated as Archie. Red, conqueror of Team Rocket. Cyrus – who knew what ambitions he held?

But at least he could rest for a week. Many wished to fight him. He'd be sure to give them a fight to remember.

Archie departed immediately after the match; he had no desire to stick around and watch others win. With a series of grunts, he began to make his way back to Hoenn; Winona called Ruby, Sapphire, and (awkwardly) Wallace to inform them to keep an eye on Team Aqua. She didn't especially expect anything, but with everyone who could stop him in the distant Indigo Plateau they couldn't be too careful.


	2. Match 2!  Karen vs Palmer!

Half an hour after the previous match, fourteen trainers gathered for the next drawing; Maxie, aloof and exhausted from the match, would take his pokemon to the Center and watch the match in his hotel room. Most were silent – nervous – and wondering how the field would impact the play; would they start the match in a wet desert, or something else entirely?

And then two faces came up; a trainer who had a legitimate claim to be the strongest in Johto, leader of the Elite Four, and a tycoon of the wasteland, the master of Sinnoh's battle tower – a man whose greatest worry was being out of practice, so few were the trainers who came his way and met his tower's challenge.

"I wonder what you'll use – Metagross and Blissey? Screw that strong pokemon crap – they're all overused. I'll prove to you that if you're good enough, you don't need that kind of team!" Karen declared.

Palmer scoffed. "A monotype team, huh? I don't fight those often... usually they don't make it to me. That said, it's not like you're using Spinda or Farfetch'd."

"I said win with my favorites. Not win with pokemon no one likes," Karen retorted and Palmer laughed. A few fans would have thrown things in fury, had the trainers been wearing microphones. A few fans sitting in the front rows heard it anyway and considered it, then remembered the psychic shield and thought better of it. Instead, they watched highlights of their past matches on the jumbotron, while announcers prattled on for a television audience in between clips – showing their wins, of course, because showing their few losses wouldn't be exciting at all.

Time flies when preparing for a pokemon battle, and before long their lead pokemon were picked and they had at least a vague idea what to do – although of course no plan long survives contact with the enemy, in war and pokemon alike.

As they entered their trainer boxes, the field opened up and rotated, wet sand replaced by a snow-capped mountain (or at least a hill) standing between the two trainers, surrounded by a frozen expanse of tundra bombarded by hail. The moon and stars shined above the field; Houndoom's sun had set at last. Neither trainer seemed all that phased by the terrain, one way or the other; they figured it would help and hurt their enemy about as much. Besides, having the high ground didn't really matter in pokemon battles, except in a few cases; it was mostly just to look cool for the fans.

"I hope you can handle this... Cresselia, come out." Palmer said, opening a poke ball for a fairy-like, unearthly moon beast surrounded in pink planetary rings, who levitated over to hover above the mountain. Karen suppressed a scowl at this pokemon's appearance; as far as she was concerned, this was a hideous pokemon loved only for its support abilities and excellent defenses, a creature with no soul.

"I'll lead with my starter. Umbreon, go!" Karen answered, revealing a black beast as canine as feline, its fur darker than a midnight sky except for a few golden rings. "I curse your tower with the smog of a thousand Koffing, I curse the trainers who sacrifice everything for strength!"

Palmer was briefly puzzled, but the glow of Umbreon's rings made it clear that a different type of Curse was intended. It was a code – a simple one, probably thought up for this tournament, nothing like the expert hand-signals of Pallet Town's Red. "Karen, there is so much fury reflected in your eyes." He answered, hoping Cresselia would get the message – his opponent's scowl showed she certainly did. And his hope was soon rewarded, as a wall slowly emerged around his pokemon, shimmering and transparent enough to let elemental attacks through.

"I've lost enough at that tower. It's payback time!" Karen shouted, causing Palmer to smirk as the black beast covered itself in a purple aura, then slowly trudged through the snow towards Cresselia, waiting for it to make a move.

Palmer paused for a moment. He didn't exactly have the best pun for this attack. "I like screening my challengers; it's too much effort otherwise. Sorry you couldn't make it through." The Cresselia blinked, then obeyed; a second screen merged with the other one, leaving a swirling box any pokemon could penetrate, but not without losing a good deal of power.

Then again, Umbreon didn't need the full force of its attack for it to really hurt. Cresselia was silent, but its rings seemed to slow and its head slowly shook back and forth – and Palmer called it back.

"I'm not even going to try with puns on this. Go, Heatran!" A bursting volcano was carried into the arena on the back of a strange, metal turtle, almost if a Torterra was wearing armor while standing at a plate boundary and suffering from vulcanism.

"I didn't either." Karen answered, laughing. "With Umbreon, I mean. It's just attack names. Speaking of which... may the Curse of Stark Mountain burn nevermore." She said, laughing as the Umbreon's rings glowed again – it seemed to expand in size this time, but the nimble beast it had been now lumbered like a scavenger.

Which was exactly what she wanted it to do. Speed wasn't always helpful. The mysterious attack known as payback only meant half as much against an opponent who was still making their move.

"Y'know, this is a lot easier when your attacks have names like payback and curse." Palmer complained.

"I'll wait." Karen answered, and her pokemon likewise stood in place.

"Leave Umbreon as desolate as Cinnabar Island – destroyed by a Magma Storm!" Palmer said, half-terrifying himself with the wrath that filled his voice. Heatran erupted on command, its lava not only soaking Umbreon, but eating through the snow and turning the field into some sort of awful volcanic river, and trapping Umbreon on a tiny island, surrounded in flames.

"Not all my attacks are that easy, but I had something planned for this one." Karen said with a laugh; she was enjoying this match. "You think I have failed this first test – but on passing, I shall absolutely celebrate!" She said, and her Umbreon folded its body into a giant, black baton of energy. She released another poke ball, revealing a large, white beast – an Absol - who impaled the baton on the black sickle on its head, and doubled in size at this contact.

"There is no power on earth greater than a Heatran's might! I'm not afraid of you, Absol!" Palmer shouted, pointing his finger Absol's way: he was getting into it.

"You said that backwards! That's cheating! Let's beat those suckers - punch its lights out!" Karen answered, and in a flash of white against the snow and hail, moving so quickly it might as well have teleported, it slammed through the transparent box and into the Heatran with its baton before the great volcano could move. Heatran briefly reeled from the attack, but soon the ground below Absol rumbled, then rose, sending the white pokemon flying.

"How's that for a natural disaster!" Palmer taunted, ignoring Karen's own creative interpretation of her attack's name. "There's nowhere to run now from a Magma Storm!"

Karen hung her head – she didn't have much for this move. "Only a sucker attacks an Absol, for the wise fear its punch!"

"They don't even have fists!" Palmer protested as Absol stood in place, unable to move: Sucker Punch was a counter, but it had not been attacked. The magma storm was not striking it, but the pillar of snow on which it stood. Against some pokemon, it would have hurt, but the Absol landed effortlessly on its feet.

"Nice try. I wonder how long those screens will last... but don't think I haven't found a way to protect my pokemon from them." Karen wondered aloud.

"Don't be too careful. And be more cautious with when you call your attacks. Because if we're not commanding them at the same time, I have a substitute plan." The Absol glowed with a wall of energy – a black box which shined a black light twice as bright as the shimmering, interlocking reflect and light screen. But Heatran's attack was nowhere to be seen – and neither was the box, nor Heatran, for a large plush toy of a sort rarely made (for few children want a stuffed Heatran) had replaced it.

"A storm unseen, magma hidden in the ground. An island is born and an old world dies." Palmer recited, for this was the type of magma storm for which the attack got its name: an underground, volcanic eruption which emerged beneath the Absol's feet and circling it in fire. The only difference from the strange natural phenomenon seen from time to time in Stark Mountain was that this one had a Heatran as its source.

"A knight's slash will swiftly cut down those who rely on treachery." Karen answered, as Absol ran past the plush toy, still unable to find the real thing, and an explosion of stuffing covered one side of the field like the quickly melting snow which had formed the field at the beginning of the battle.

But it was all for naught. Heatran had been revealed, but the magma continued to singe the Absol's fur, and it was soon unable to continue on.

"A dark cry in the night, your dreams forgotten. Palmer, your victory shall fall into a dark void." Karen smirked, revealing her next pokemon – a black cloud of mist vaguely resembling the traditional depiction of a poltergeist, yet with grasping arms and white smoke billowing from its head.

"That's cheating!" Palmer shouted, visibly outraged by the appearance of Darkrai. "Judge..." he paused. The last match had seen a Kyogre and a Groudon face off. The rules of his tower, adapted as far as a subway in Unova, had no influence here. "Nevermind. But Karen, that's a cheap way to win."

"You use strong pokemon, don't you? Why are you so outraged by Darkrai?"

"There are some pokemon so strong that pokemon battles become less about skill and more about what you can catch. It's not that I can't catch those pokemon, although I admit I never bothered. It's that it makes the game less fun."

"And I can say the same about your own tier, Palmer. Don't be a hypocrite." Karen answered as her pokemon sent a black ellipse Heatran's way, putting the volcano into a nightmarish sleep. "This isn't some nasty plot to defeat you. I use my favorites, whether it's someone like Umbreon... or someone like Darkrai." As Heatran snored and Palmer was distracted by his own rage, a black light went on above Darkrai's head, and it doubled in size like Umbreon had after its curses.

Palmer hurriedly called his pokemon back. There was only one pokemon who had the defenses of switching in on someone like this. The battle was almost lost.

Almost.

"Regigigas, I don't care how slowly you start – keep going until you finish." Palmer said, unleashing an enormous white-and-yellow golem with bushes and lights that left many comparing it to a Christmas tree, although Palmer rejected the comparison and making it in Regigigas' presence was a very easy way to get punched by an angry legend.

Karen laughed. "A Regigigas? Palmer, I don't understand – they can't fight their way out of a paper bag for the first five turns. But it doesn't matter. Because there's nothing that stays awake against Darkrai – your championship hopes are void!"

Palmer smiled. "What was your slogan again? Something about selfish perceptions and truly skilled trainers? I won't let my favorite pokemon lose so easily! Computers spit out gigabytes of analysis, but there's no accounting for the impact of a trainer and their pokemon!" Another wide, black ellipse made its way towards the great machine, who closed its eyes. Yet just as soon it opened them again, spitting out the shell of a Chesto Berry, and whirled its arms in circles as it charged uphill along the volcanic river's shore to slam them into the Darkrai.

Its lights went dim after that attack. It would have to recharge. Palmer didn't care, for Karen only had one pokemon left, and Umbreon didn't scare him. It wasn't exactly a strong pokemon, after all, and it had already battled its fair share: the dark type couldn't have much more than half its health left.

Perhaps it should have.

"Curse the thought that I should be defeated under the moonlight!" Karen shouted, staring at the crescent moon: she wished it was a full one, if only for the drama.

The shields surrounding Regigigas – Reflect and Light screen – came down one by one as the black beast expanded again, then its rings absorbed the energy of the moon to rejuvenate it from the earlier injury which it had sustained when Heatran's magma had singed through its fur to the golden skin underneath.

But a fresh injury was coming, for Regigigas was lighting up again. "Regigigas, the bricks on which evil builds shall break against your power!"

"Are you calling Umbreon evil?"

"Do you want to try coming up with something for Brick Break? Some of us are doing this on the fly." Palmer answered as the great machine lumbered back down towards the Umbreon, then smashed into it with a slow, enormous arm. The Umbreon was injured, but not unprepared; it glowed with a purple aura and smashed into its vulnerable although the pokemon appeared unharmed, Regigigas' lights turned all the way off.

Karen sighed. "You could've at least used darkness or something," but Palmer was uninterested in this debate.

"That shouldn't have been enough to KO it..." Palmer said, puzzled. The Umbreon smiled, lifting a hatch on the grand machine with its mouth as Palmer walked over to check; the pokemon's ancient, steam-powered on-off switch had been flipped to the off position.

"Judge?" Palmer asked. Situations like this didn't happen often, but the judge was Unovan and had seen a Golurk fight a few times, so he didn't even need to check the rulebook. "Although this is certainly an unusual situation, Regigigas is nonetheless unable to battle. Tower Tycoon Palmer, select your next pokemon."

And yet Palmer was still smiling. He had seen all of Karen's last pokemon's attacks. He knew what Umbreon had left. And he was pretty sure he had this match in the bag, even with that freak accident.

"Cresselia, this isn't over! What kind of loon or dancing fool thinks an Umbreon can sweep me!" The strange pink and gold creature, something between a snake and a swan, returned with its tattered rings; it didn't look like it could take another attack.

"All that's left for me is Umbreon. You took down Darkrai and Absol – it's payback time!" Umbreon moved slowly towards Cresselia, who surrounded herself in pink light and vanished into Heatran's poke ball, while the hail continued to pound the wounded Umbreon.

"What the..." Karen began, mouth agape in shock; she had thought she knew every attack, but this strange technique was known only by a single pokemon, which she had never battled.

"You've never seen Cresselia, have you?" Palmer said. "Well, I might as well finish this. Heatran, come out." The poke ball where the pink light had fled opened, revealing both an awake and refreshed Heatran, who appeared atop the mountain, and an unconscious Cresselia sans its twin rings, who he soon recalled.

"And your hopes of victory die like the people who once lived in Sinnoh's far north. Magma storm." Again, Heatran erupted – it looked like a volcano this time, and landed all over like one too. There was nowhere for Umbreon to run, nor did it have the strength to endure such an attack. When the fire stopped swirling, a red light shot into the freshly melted arena to recall the beast who had nearly salvaged victory in a match Karen had no business winning.

Karen should have been crying, she would think to herself later. She had lost. Worse, she had lost to a trainer who she had once thought embodied everything wrong with the world of competitive pokemon. But losing was nothing new to her. She was lucky to qualify for Johto's slot: Bugsy had almost beaten her. And better yet, she had a lot of fun doing it. As she walked across the snow to shake hands with her opponent, Karen of the Elite Four found herself smiling.

"You know, I see a ton of Umbreon and even a few Absol in the tower – and Darkrai would be everywhere if there were more of them and legal." Palmer said, smiling. "In fact, going by conventional wisdom, I was the one who used weak pokemon, not you."

"I may have lost, but I think I proved myself right. And who knows – maybe if I had left Darkrai off my team, I would even have won." Karen answered.

"I wouldn't go that far. Darkrai fought well, too; it cost me Cresselia, in the end, and made me bring out Regigigas sooner then I'd like. But if there are other dark-types you love more, use them next time and leave it for a better trainer."

Karen turned around, heading for the exit, only to be stopped by the sound of Palmer's booming voice.

"One last thing. I think each and every trainer here is using pokemon they love. Heck, I think that's true of everyone, not just the ones in the tournament – even the asshole who beat me by sending out an Articuno, Garchomp, and Salamence. Because when you get down to it, you need a lot more than raw power to be great."

Karen turned around and smiled, finishing her victorious foe's sentence. "You need to love the game, and you need to love your pokemon. Thanks." And with those words she exited the arena, satisfied in defeat.


	3. Match 3!  N vs Silver!

Night turned to day, then back into late afternoon, and the time for announcing the match came once again. Only twelve showed up for this drawing; the two victors and one loser were in the front row of the stands. Tension built in the crowd, and for ten trainers, a mix of relief and disappointment filled the air as they speculated on their next match; relief for those who feared fighting one of the selected two in the first round, disappointment for those who thought they had a favorable match-up.

For two boys – both often outside the law, once so opposite in their views of pokemon – there was only excitement. Natural Harmonia Gropius blushed with embarrassment at his name's announcement; he had registered under "N" for a reason, but the announcer hadn't bothered to check. Silver was calmer, cooler, more collected – but all the same, he knew N by reputation, and was hoping for an easier foe in the first round. If there was such a thing. No match would be easy. Not in a tournament like this.

Though this matchup seemed harder than most. Especially given that he was not particularly studious or well-traveled, and was frankly ignorant of the types, strengths, and weaknesses of many of Unova's pokemon – then again, his opponent was probably in the same boat, having rarely traveled to Kanto and Johto.

The field this time was one of molten, cracking rock – it resembled the ice field, except that a mountain of ice and a hailstorm had been replaced by a bright sun, hidden somewhat not by rain clouds, but smoke from an erupting volcano!

"This guy's been with me through thick and thin – even when I was a hypocrite and a pawn of Team Plasma. When I tried to grasp my destiny, its power almost let me triumph." N kissed his poke ball, then opened it up, revealing an enormous white dragon with white smoke billowing from his tail.

Silver looked puzzled for a moment as he sized up the foreign pokemon. There was no doubting its draconic side, but what was its other type, ice? Normal? Flying? If he guessed wrong, it could cost him his first pokemon. And he only had three, so he had to be extra careful: he was more used to having six to choose from.

So he'd send out someone who may very well be at a disadvantage (unless it was ice type) but who could at least make use of the terrain well and had the raw power to put up a fight. "This pokemon is a legend here in Johto – I imagine yours is one in Unova, too. This pokemon ran across the plains of my homeland for generations, leaving countless small fires in its wake. And now it is mine. Entei, come out!" A great, red beast emerged, as much canine as feline, gray smoke billowing down its back and camouflaging it against the volcano. "Detonation spin!"

"Reshiram, Outrage!" Entei charged across the volcano, seemingly impervious to the smoke and lava, then sped around Reshiram in a circle, catching it in a vortex of wind and fire . Reshiram, however, soon broke out of the vortex by spreading its wings, jumping up, and flying low to the ground through the flames. The fact that they were battling in an inferno did not phase it, for it too was all but immune to fire.

Reshiram did not stop with a dodge; the moment the dragon saw its foe it turned, adjusted its course, and rammed the fiery mammal with an uncontrolled draconic fury. Entei was sent flying into the psychic shield which protected the fans from fire, ice, and, in this case, twenty-foot-tall legendary pokemon, then fell to the ground, visibly shaken by the attack.

Silver gulped. Entei's fire wasn't working, but his opponent's attack clearly was, and switching out would mean nothing but a pokemon futilely sacrificed; the rest of his team combined didn't have Entei's bulk, and even Entei was hurting. He'd need something other than a fire attack. He just hoped whatever Reshiram was had a weakness to rock.

"Stone edge!" he yelled, and Entei roared as the ground below it shook, opening up to reveal sharp, jagged stones which attached to Entei like it was a magnet. N had no need for an order, nor would his pokemon hear it; Reshiram, in the midst of its outrage, could do nothing but turn around and dive headfirst again into its newly bladed foe.

When the two pokemon emerged from their collision, Reshiram looked injured – its wings in particular were smashed up pretty badly, and it was clearly disoriented. But Entei, if anything, was worse, for the great fire-type beast could barely stand. But neither of them would stay that way. Reshiram held up its hand, revealing a small green berry in its palm, then lowered its mouth to its hand in order to swallow it whole. At the same time the cloud of smoke on Entei's back reached into its fur as though it was a hand or tentacle in order to grab a golden, shining berry, which it munched down on like a hungry Growlithe. A moment later, it rose back up with renewed vitality: the berry had healed at least some of the damage.

"Well, it's clear outrage isn't doing the trick. This may be overkill, but I have to finish the job if I'm going to get my wish. Blue Flare!" N shouted, and a wispy, blue-white flame shot from the great dragon's tail, and Entei stepped in its path, bursting with howling laughter as the devastating heat healed the beast of fire.

"You knew it was a fire type, didn't you?" Silver asked. "Why are you so surprised?"

N stared at the Entei with immense intensity and a hint of anger – anger at himself as much as at his foe. "I didn't know it was that kind of fire type. There's only one like that in Unova, and the guidebook I read..."

"Was out of date." Silver answered with a wry, taunting smile. "Because it was written before man learned of the power of dreams, and Entei, who perished in fire, dreams of never being burnt again. Now hit it with another Stone Edge!" Again, the beast covered itself in sharp stones and charged over the volcano; indeed, given Reshiram's position it went out of its way to do so, and seemed to grow even more rejuvenated as it did. This time, it wasn't a mutual collision, just a direct hit from Entei which left the white dragon reeling as it fell to all fours, all but defeated.

"It's okay that I didn't know about Entei," N said with a disturbing grin. "Because you don't know about Reshiram, and how important it is to finish it off: it's extremely dangerous with low health. Outrage!" The dragon's tattered, cratered wings somehow only made it fly faster, and it rammed Entei with even greater strength than before – first up above the upper deck into the sky, then left it to plunge back into the rocky ground, unconscious.

"We've been through thick and thin together – I know you can finish the job," Silver said, clutching a new poke ball as he recalled the fainted Entei. "Weavile, come out and use Ice Shard!"

Hidden as black specks within lava like the exaggerated ninjas of contemporary lore, a black and red blur emerged from the poke ball. It revealed itself as a mustelid when it stopped briefly in order to stab Reshiram in the back of the neck with a carefully targeted icicle. The attack melted on contact with the pokemon's white fur, and Weavile was slightly burnt, although the burns were quite difficult to see at its tremendous speed. But the shard didn't need to do much against such a wounded foe. The earth soon shook like an Earthquake as a great weight slammed into it, for Reshiram toppled to the ground, defeated.

N had only gained a brief glimpse of Weavile, who had returned behind the volcano to hide after its attack. He wasn't sure just what to use, or even what he was fighting. All he could do is play to the terrain and hope. But he was more than prepared for this field, because he held another pokemon all but impervious to fire. "Carracosta, go!"

"Those are extinct!" Silver yelled, recalling old paleontology books. "You've got to be kidding me. They died out millions of years ago!"

"Just like Aerodactyl and Kabutops, right?" N retorted, tossing his green hair as he summoned his ancient blue turtle; it was something like a Blastoise, but with no cannons, a stouter build, and a smaller shell. "Do you think that technology's a Japanese exclusive? Unova's just as advanced as anywhere."

Silver sighed. He had honestly pictured Unova as a backwater, and he began to wonder about that distant country. Just what kind of land was it? All he knew was that it seemed to have tall bridges and tall buildings everywhere, but little of what lay beneath. How did the people live? What were their pokemon like?

But N's command soon snapped him out of his reverie; he'd have plenty of time to dream of tourism later – especially if he lost. "Carracosta, use Shell Smash!"

"Weavile, Night Slash!" Again, the mustelid was hidden – though in the daytime, at least a black blur could be seen speeding past Carracosta's shell. The shell soon crumbled, or at least seemed to – all which remained was a small, fragile under-shell covering a fairly lizardlike body.

"A direct hit!" Silver yelled, pumping his fist in the air. "It's working – night slash it again!"

N sighed. "Did anyone ever tell you what Shell Smash actually does? I guess it's time for me to teach you – there's nowhere to hide from Carracosta's surf!" A great wall of water gathered behind the ancient sea turtle, then rose up above even the volcano, filling the field as it crashed down and doused its flames. Within the cracked rocks behind Carracosta, a badly wounded Weavile emerged, still clinging to its hope of victory and waiting for its injuries to show; before long, the two night slashes could be seen in a black, X-shaped scar across the water-and-rock-type's stomach.

"Sacrifices defense for attack – and allegedly speed, but I'm not seeing it. I wasn't referring to Shell Smash," Silver answered.

"So that's what a Weavile looks like." N mused, ignoring his opponent's response as he surveyed the field. "It looks too tiny to take a hit. Carracosta, finish it with an Aqua Jet!"

"Weavile," Silver began, then stopped; he hadn't given his command in time. Propelled by the water it had so recently summoned, Carracosta had rammed Weavile the moment it appeared; there was nothing the pokemon could do to defend itself, and it lay unconscious in a crumpled heap on the ground.

"You fought well. Weavile, return." Silver said sadly as a red light enveloped his pokemon, then smirked as he came up with his next move. It might not be enough – he was still behind. But it was worth a try.

"N, do you remember why Carracosta went extinct?" N shook his head at Silver's remark. He never had learned much about the world, after all; Ghetsis had taken special care to shelter him. "I'll show you why. These guys have been around since the Mesozoic, and most scientists speculate their predation played a major role in contributing to Carracosta's extinction in that era. I think it would be nice to find out. Go, Feraligatr – Crunch that turtle's shell!"

"Carracosta..." N paused. "Hit it with a Stone Edge!" The great turtle's body, like Entei's before it, soon turned to jagged rock. But it didn't even seem to hurt the Feraligatr's many teeth as it bit through the stone armor like a potato chip, leaving a gaping wound in the giant turtle's head.

"Thank Arceus for pokemon centers," N mused, hurriedly recalling his pokemon. "I hope it'll be okay..."

"It will be," Silver reassured his opponent. "My Feraligatr knows exactly where to bite. We've been through some tough times of our own, but I'm an ex-thief, not a killer."

N nodded, then blinked. "Is that Feraligatr stolen property?"

Silver sighed. "Yeah. Or it was, anyway. Elm gave it to me in the end."

Recalling the match, N smiled. "Thank you. I'm glad Carracosta won't be too hurt. Still, I think I should use someone even a Feraligatr won't be able to crunch through. Klinklang, go!" One giant steel gear interlocked with two smaller ones, each with faces, with a fourth gear lying facedown at the bottom of the large one, emerged from N's last poke ball, like some demented Magnezone who had lost its magnets and been re-engineered for factory labor.

"That's supposed to be a pokemon?" Silver asked, making a show of containing his enormous laughter – had Arceus run out of ideas when he decided which pokemon to put in Unova?

"Klinklang, the water's still there – time to conduct some electricity! Hit it with a thunderbolt!" N shouted, ignoring Silver's insult: he'd let his pokemon talk for him. Like Weavile before it, there was nowhere for the Feraligatr to run, no way to dodge. The attacks hadn't even actually struck it, just filtered through the water which the Klinklang hovered a few inches above. But this didn't make them hurt any less.

"Feraligatr, you can beat this ridiculous thing. Dragon Dance!" The term 'dance' seemed like something of a misnomer for what the Feraligatr was actually doing, but "dragon powerup" or "dragon go super saiyan" was a bit long to call out in battle. Making a serious of fierce gestures, it soon glowed with a red and blue aura, faster and more muscular than before.

"You didn't even attack," N said angrily. "Not that I mind the free pass to the quarterfinals, but please take this match seriously. You owe it to your pokemon for making them do this."

Silver shook his head. "That's not what I was doing. I don't know what the heck that thing is, but it looks like a steel type, so Feraligatr probably needs the extra power. Now strike it with a Waterfall! Feraligatr charged uphill to climb what had begun the match as a volcano and now looked more like a small island. It carried with its charge a wave of water twice its size, which soon came crashing down onto the Klinklang as Feraligatr slammed into the pile of gears' red core.

"Klinklang, Thun..." N began, then paused. At this distance, with his pokemon this wet, Thunderbolt was an enormously dangerous attack; even if it took down Feraligatr it would only get him to overtime, and if it didn't he was just throwing away his chance. At this distance he had better options; there was more to pokemon battles than type advantages. "On second thought, Gear Grind!" The hoop-like spiked gear which circled around the Klinklang's body began to spin and the other three did likewise, slamming into the bipedal reptile and hoping to catch it like so many unfortunate body parts and small animals who fell into heavy machinery.

The attack did hit. It did hurt; a few enormous gear-shaped imprints in the water-type's scales could be seen even by the crowd in the stands. But it was not a knockout blow. Before long, Feraligatr instinctively grabbed hold of the attack, stopping its motion and leaving Klinklang unable to guard.

"It can't escape! Low Kick!" In an uninspired but no less painful technique, Feraligatr slammed Klinklang to the ground like a wrestler, then kicked it across the arena into the psychic shield as it hummed and whirled around in pain.

In an ordinary match, both of these pokemon would probably have fainted by now; in this one, they were running on as much adrenaline as their trainers, and neither of them seemed anywhere near surrender.

"I won't lose!" N shouted. 

"I won't either!" Silver shouted back. It seemed cliched, as though the battle had been reduced to a pure contest of wills with victory going to whoever shouted louder. Maybe Sabrina was right: this truly did seem like a battle of equals after all. But their will was as equal as their strength, so who could possibly be declared the victor?

It would've been fitting for the match to end with an explosion and some kind of tiebreaker. In fact, Silver expected exactly that to happen; most similar-looking round steel-types knew how to explode. He wasn't aware that Klinklang didn't.

"Before it blows up, give it everything you've got." Silver shouted. "Finish that thing with an Earthquake!" Feraligatr attempted to stomp the ground, only to slip on the wet rock, falling as the ground rose up beneath Klinklang.

"Don't lose! You can survive this – it's swimming now! Hit it with another Thunderbolt!" N shouted, and the gears began to spark, rotating sideways against each other as Klinklang hovered a few feet off the shallow pond which formed the ground, only to be interrupted as the Klinklang broke into pieces against the rising ground, its very unity shattered as the three smaller gears ping-ponged across the arena.

"Klinklang is unable to battle. Victory in the first round goes to Silver of New Bark!" N lowered his head sadly, then recalled Klinklang; the two gears returned to his poke ball even though only the large one had been enveloped in red light.

As the two crossed the arena to shake hands, there was one question on each of their minds. After the usual congratulations, they each had one question. "So what was your wish?"

N gave a somber glance towards the scoreboard, with its three xs next to the poke balls beside his names, and a fourth larger one over his face, with the word "eliminated." Losing a match like this hadn't hurt, because he and his pokemon had given it their all. Losing his wish, on the other hand...

"It wasn't to liberate the pokemon. Not anymore. I've learned to appreciate the bond between a pokemon and it's trainer. I just want to make sure that every pokemon, wild or trained, can be loved."

Silver smiled. "A noble goal. Almost makes me sad to beat you – almost."

"What about you? I asked too," N repeated.

"Well, I wouldn't want to spoil the big surprise. Stick around for when I win the tournament - you'll learn it when Jirachi does!"


	4. Match 4!  Red vs Cynthia!

Ten trainers gathered for the nightcap's trainer selection. The earlier tension had seemed to fade: after the last three matches, more trainers seemed to want to stop worrying and find someone to fight already. All had time to do ample research on all of their prospective foes, but most had skimped on actually doing this. Apart from their region mates, whom they already knew well, the trainers didn't learn much beyond possible movesets and typing: useful information, but things of little value on the individual level.

The selection came up almost at once: perhaps the scoreboard operator had recieved the signal too early, perhaps the announcers and hosts had simply grown tired of speculating. Two ex-champions were announced, one from Sinnoh, the other of Kanto, at least at the time of their victories. Red had retired soon after his victory to grow stronger in Johto's Mount Silver, while Cynthia had lost her throne in an amazing upset to the young Platinum Berlitz, sparking lurid allegations of match fixing and a lesbian sex scandal at the highest ranks of Sinnoh's Pokemon League. She had retreated to the shadows somewhat since then, using her time to study mythology and splitting her years between Sinnoh and Unova, accepting friendly matches with renowned trainers but never entering tournaments, even though she was probably stronger than the Champion. The Sinnoh Regional for the World Championship had marked her thus-far triumphant return, and she had triumphed without ever switching out her Garchomp.

Red of Pallet Town would not be this easy a foe. Cynthia would be shocked if she pulled off a sweep. But there was only one way to start a match like this, so she'd trust in the pokemon who got her here, even if it meant an obvious ice type response. "Garchomp, go!" she shouted, summoning a large blue cross between a land shark and a dragon with a red stomach and arms which resembled a Scyther's blades, yet blue and pointing backwards.

Red said nothing in response. It wasn't that he had any lack of retorts, but he was mute since birth and wasn't going to take the trouble of writing down a witty response for every slight in big bold letters. He did open a poke ball and set it on the ground, revealing a yellow rat with a thunderbolt for a tail. It was a strange choice; Pikachu didn't have the bulk to handle a Garchomp's Outrage, and Garchomp, as a ground type, was immune to Pikachu's strongest attacks.

And this unnerved Cynthia more than Red would have if he pulled out a Froslass.

The stadium which the two pokemon entered bore little resemblance to the mountain and weather combination which had served them the past three matches; for whatever reason, perhaps predictability, perhaps the feeling that it gave some pokemon too much of an advantage, the plan of a water battle had been scrapped. Instead, a series of air vents covered the ground, pushing even Garchomp into the air: Pikachu might as well have been a flying-type, except for its poor control.

"Maybe he thinks he can win because Garchomp will be in midair? But it's also a dragon type, so electricity won't do much to it anyway. I don't get this kid," Cynthia paused. She had been about to shout 'Earthquake' but even if it would have hit it was impossible to use. One couldn't exactly stomp the ground to create earthquakes while floating in midair, after all.

But she had three other attacks, and she was ready and able to use them all. As Red made an elaborate series of hand-signals to his floating, flying Pikachu in a different series from any of the ones the studious Cynthia had seen on tape, she gave her order to her Garchomp, hoping that Red hadn't already prepared a counter. "Speed Impact!"

Flying faster then sound, steering its arms like they were wings, Garchomp flew after Pikachu, but what it hit was only an illusion; Pikachu was copying itself, turning on a dime, and speeding through the air so quickly it left afterimages behind. A Pidgeot would have trouble keeping up, and the fans lacked a Pidgeot's speed and eyesight. Many turned to one another to ask if they saw the last attack: few answered in the affirmative. The chase resembled something out of a video game, and if it was then Pikachu was controlled by an expert player, its early awkwardness in the air soon left behind.

"Has his Pikachu trained for this? Is that even possible?" Cynthia muttered aloud, watching as the Pikachu turned to face Red in the chase, who tossed up another signal. Suddenly, the Pikachu stopped and pulled a surfboard out of its fur, then rode it through a raincloud and beneath the Garchomp, drenching it with a wave of water.

Cynthia sighed. It wasn't that Garchomp had taken all that much damage; on the inside it was a little wounded, but in appearance it was only a bit wet and slightly annoyed. But Pikachu – Pikachu seemed unhittable, unstoppable, too fast and small for Garchomp to hurt.

Had she chosen that moment to strike, at least according to the announcers, she could probably have defeated Pikachu in a single hit. Instead, outmatched and confused, she recalled her Garchomp to its poke ball.

"Spiritomb, your turn!" A pseudo-legendary pokemon had been recalled to be replaced with one even rarer. There were other trainers in Sinnoh who owned a Spiritomb, but the ritual to capture one required great skill, great knowledge of pokemon lore, and the help of many friends: Cynthia was one of the few trainers alive who could claim all of these. Most captive Spiritomb belonged to trainers who had skipped this ritual and instead traded for those who hatched from ghostly eggs. Her particular Spiritomb had not recently participated in organized battle, but it was far from inexperienced; she had used it plenty in friendly matches and scrimmages between her own pokemon squad, and it had battled often in her days as Champion.

In terms of types, it had no weaknesses. Maybe it was the one who could take down Pikachu.

She just hoped it wasn't out of shape.

Spiritomb soon emerged from its poke ball, a ghost of some strange beast probably never seen on this earth; purple in form, with green eyes, a green interior, and five green orbs circling around the outside of its face like a rapid, simplified facsimile of Jupiter or Saturn's moons. The air vents had little impact on its motion, perhaps because it wasn't from the world of the living anyway: it floated in place a few feet above the ground.

And no sooner did it emerge than was it struck by an enormous Thunderbolt straight from Pikachu's cheeks.

"That fast? Wait a minute... that's impossible. It would've had to have attacked..." Cynthia began muttering to herself, opening her eyes wide in realization. "before I recalled Garchomp. And there's no reason whatsoever to Thunderbolt a Garchomp. He must have had this planned from the start. Damn it. He read me like a book. I'd think he was psychic but Sabrina and Caitlin combined aren't this good."

Cynthia paused. Red smirked and made the same sign he did to Pikachu last time: given how often he changed them up, this was probably as much a taunt as a genuine signal. And while its trainer hesitated, another Thunderbolt came Spiritomb's way. "Pain Split!" she belatedly ordered the ghost pokemon; if she couldn't block the attack she could at least hurt Pikachu with it too. The Spiritomb glowed with a golden aura, absorbing the bolt, recharging its energy, and sending the pain back towards Pikachu, but the rebound looked more like a tiny spark than the vicious Thunderbolt which had struck Spiritomb.

"Right, Pikachu don't have much HP to begin with," Cynthia mused to herself: it was unnerving not having an opponent to taunt or banter with her, and she wondered if the crowd would think she was losing her mind. But soon she smiled, for she had realized that its low amount of hit points meant that Pikachu was easy to knock out, as long as she could just hit the damn rodent. "Spiritomb, Shadow Ball!"

As Red's Pikachu launched its third successive Thunderbolt – not the most creative strategy, but it was working well enough that he had no reason to change it – Spiritomb sent a large black ball Pikachu's way. The rodent weaved through the air, flying in an elaborate pattern of loops and zigzags, but the ball of shadow crept up the stands, following Pikachu like a missile, growing bigger and bigger as it approached. Red furiously signaled to his pokemon to be careful of the sun, but Pikachu's back was turned as it flew away, and it did not respond before the shadow ball leaped from the upper deck to slam into Pikachu's tail.

It was an instant KO. Pikachu fell quickly at first, then slower as it approached the enormous fans, ultimately coming to an oscillation of about ten feet off the ground, a bit higher than Spiritomb. Red silently lifted his poke ball, recalling a pokemon who had been with him nearly from the start, then plucked a ball seemingly at random to hurl it into the arena.

The creature which emerged looked like something of a mix between a Skitty and a Vulpix, but it was leaner, lavender in color, more evolved, and an Eeveelution. Its tail was forked, its ears were large, and its movements were ordinarily graceful, although not nearly as much when it was riding on air vents.

"An Espeon. Why?" Cynthia asked, although she knew her opponent couldn't answer. Was it another trick? "It's not even that Red's fighting without concern for type advantages. He's intentionally sending out pokemon to fight against their weaknesses. But why? What does this kid have up his sleeve?" she sighed. Cynthia, former champion of Sinnoh, was not one to fall for the same trick twice. "Spiritomb, Shadow Ball!"

Red smiled as if to say "I'm not falling for that one again either." Espeon, propelling itself with a pink aura of psychic energy, floated into the center of the arena, surrounded by open sky. The Shadow Ball crept up the stands, but it was unable to make the jump to hit its target and vanished into the mist.

Espeon proceeded to answer Spiritomb's attack, despite the lack of any visible sign from Red, by raising its forked tail and firing a prismatic, multicolored beam the Spiritomb's way. The ghost pokemon stood in place to take the attack, unable or too uncaring to dodge, but it was left dazed, confused, and badly injured; the thunderbolts were catching up to it.

"You need to remember why you can't beat a Spiritomb that easily. Pain Split!" Cynthia shouted, pointing to the Espeon. The Spiritomb did seem to slowly recover as it surrounded itself with a golden aura, but its foe was unfazed. Instead, Cynthia herself slumped to her knees, grabbing onto the rails of the trainer's box and screaming in pain.

Red made a series of signals to the judge, who nodded in agreement. "Spiritomb has made an illegal move and is disqualified. It is forbidden to use attacks on trainers, even your own. This isn't the wilderness or Team Rocket's hideout."

"But it was confused!" Cynthia protested, struggling to stand. "That's just adding insult to injury!" The judge shook his head, unconvinced, and a furious Cynthia recalled her Spiritomb as an X marked its picture on the scoreboard.

Cynthia paused, glancing over her four remaining poke balls – and Garchomp's, if she didn't save it for the end of the match. The way Red's pokemon maneuvered in the air, her third couldn't be someone like Milotic or Lucario; they wouldn't stand a chance. And with Red's Pikachu gone, there wasn't any good reason to shy away from the one bird on her team. "Go, Braviary!"

A giant red, white and blue eagle with golden talons and head feathers resembling the headdress of indigenous Unovans emerged from Cynthia's ultra ball, flying instinctively towards Espeon before its trainer gave a command. The psychic type looked like a thinner, lavender-furred version of Purrloin or Liepard, pokemon which Braviary naturally ate in the wild.

"Don't underestimate it, Braviary. You're up against a powerful psychic. Let's hope it can't take a Brave Bird!" Diving after the Espeon with reckless abandon, Braviary flew unhindered through its opponent's psychic waves to slice it with beak and talons alike.

Red looked up in shock, both at the strength of her new pokemon's attack, and that such a creature was now his opponent. He had never heard of Braviary before, and was even more shocked Cynthia had one; they certainly weren't native to Sinnoh, after all. He didn't think he could beat this pokemon with hand signs alone; it was too fast, maneuverable, and dangerous. Maybe Pikachu could beat it on instinct alone, but most of his team would be in serious trouble.

Luckily, he had recently branched out into psychic pokemon, and with them he could just rely on telepathy. "Espeon, Braviary is hurting itself and not just you with that attack, and there are only a few clouds in the sky – though it's getting pretty dark. It's a bit of a misnomer, but recover what energy you can: Morning Sun!" he thought to his pokemon, concentrating hard but sending no signals his opponent's way, not that anyone could read them to begin with.

Cynthia spent this time sizing up her opponent and planning her next attack, only belatedly realizing her opponent's pokemon had taken the time to recover. But two could play at this game. "Roost!" she yelled, and her Braviary perched not on the whirling fans which covered the ground, but on the ledge of the upper deck, like a giant Pidove seen up close by excited onlookers. It was careful to face forward, lest it hit the psychic shield, or worse have fans attempt to pet it in the middle of the match.

The two rejuvenated pokemon faced one another, staring intently, but Braviary did not hear Cynthia's warning of "don't make eye contact!" in time. The Braviary soon twisted its wings and talons into agonizing contortions, slapping itself as it shrieked in pain; one wondered if it had even heard the order of "Brave Bird!"

But Cynthia ordered the attack again; it wasn't as though it had done poorly the last time Braviary had pulled it off. Red smiled and ordered the same response as last time, and a series of interlocking blue waves shocked the confused bird's mind as it rammed Espeon once again in a headfirst collision.

"Braviary and Espeon are unable to battle!" Red glanced at the judge, a bit surprised by the former announcement. The sun was not bright when he had ordered its recovery and Brave Bird was a powerful attack, so he understood why no thoughts from Espeon were coming his way. As for Braviary, if he added up the many attacks which had damaged it, both Espeon's and its own, it did make a bit of sense, yet it was hovering in place like it was still flying in midair, waiting for a kill!

Only when he saw his opponent's eyes, a moment before the red light from Cynthia's poke ball absorbed the Braviary, did he realize why the judge had made his call.

"Garchomp, it's all up to you!" Cynthia shouted her words of encouragement with a mix of bravado and trepidation: it hadn't let her down yet. Maybe she could win this match after all; then again, it was in for the fight of its life. Red wouldn't let this be easy, and he knew what he was up against.

Red belatedly recalled his Espeon, the great blue shark dragon already summoned by the time he did so. There was one pokemon on his team which could actually win in this situation; Pikachu had played its share of head games, but not done all that much actual damage, so it wasn't simply a matter of not getting knocked out instantly and being able to get off that one attack which finished the job.

Unless, of course, that one attack was 4X effective.

He just didn't want to use it, not because it wasn't powerful, but because this was a pokemon more intelligent than he was, who had joined him voluntarily; half out of respect, half because he had to in order to save the world. This pokemon was not some beast who had been captured in battle or rescued from Team Rocket. Then again, it was this pokemon who had insisted on their own registration, and it deserved better than to be left in a poke ball the whole tournament.

He opened his poke ball to reveal a mutated, bipedal cross between a human being and a Mew; the genetic product of horrific experimentation intended to create an unbeatable pokemon.

"Mewtwo," Cynthia remarked, surprised. "I didn't know it had been captured."

"It hasn't," Mewtwo itself answered, beaming thoughts telepathically to the opponent's trainer's head.

"Garchomp, you can win this, don't be afraid. Swords dance!" Cynthia shouted, pointing to Mewtwo as if to call her own victory. The Garchomp turned its arms upside-down and spun rapidly from side to side, sharpening the blades on its arms and with it its entire body.

"Cynthia, I have a message from Red," Mewtwo said, and the voice communicating in her thoughts suddenly shifted – to one never spoken, for it had never had the chance to speak.

"You fought well, but you made a critical mistake at the end. Your Garchomp's Speed Impact wasn't a sure thing, but a good hit would have given it the chance to give Mewtwo a one-hit KO. I suspect it was because you forgot one thing: Mewtwo can learn Ice Beam. Checkmate."

"Garchomp, stop! Speed impact!" Cynthia shouted desperately, but it was too little, too late. No sooner had it broken out of its spin than had Mewtwo, floating lazily in midair, fired a sharp, narrow beam of ice through the pokemon's stomach: it fainted instantly.

"I... I can't believe it. I lost. And it was because I screwed up. My pokemon were excellent, but I was outplayed at every turn," Cynthia muttered, falling to her knees and letting her tears flow.

Red smiled kindly, then pointed a finger Mewtwo's way, and the pokemon telekinetically walked him into the other trainer's box. "By the way, Cynthia, you made a mistake, but not the one you think you did. Red played one last trick on you: the momentum of Swords Dance would have protected Garchomp from an ice beam, and speed impact wasn't enough for a one-hit KO."

"I didn't even forget it knew Ice Beam – I was just so shocked," Cynthia said.

"That's how the plan worked," Mewtwo added; Cynthia later swore she saw the creature smiling. She wondered just how many tricks had Red and Mewtwo cooked up on her for this match? They probably had ten planned for every one he actually used.

"So the one time Red spoke..." Cynthia muttered as her opponent gave her a helping hand up, still trying to comprehend her conqueror. She was answered with a quick handwritten message on a pad of paper, written by a pen which moved with the speed of an expert computer typist.

"was a trick I played to win the toughest battle of my life. I'm usually a lot more straightforward when I battle. Good game, Cynthia. You're an amazing trainer."

And then, still undefeated, Red of Pallet Town exited the arena without another word.


	5. Match 5!  Green vs Caitlin!

Eight trainers gathered this time. Although this fact was weird for all of them to think about, for the days had passed so quickly, the first round was already halfway over. The arena was as packed as it had been for every other match and the victors and defeated alike (save one Team Aqua leader and early loser) watched and studied from the stands.

Half-asleep as always, the narcoleptic member of Unova's Elite Four yawned as her face appeared on the scoreboard. She hadn't anticipated going today, but then again, her psychic powers didn't seem to work quite as well this tournament; maybe her opponents, commoner or not, really were as amazing as they seemed.

Well, some of them, anyway. She counted herself lucky for this matchup; she didn't think that a rude, uncouth runaway of a girl kidnapped and raised by a villainous maniac had any hope of victory. Nor was Green all that imposing in stature or reputation: she had her fair share of tricks, but as highly as Sabrina had spoken of her skills, stuffing her chest with poke balls wouldn't get her through the World Championship.

"Third place in the regionals. Never won the Kanto league. Green, you're outmatched here."

The younger girl smirked, walking into her trainer's box and taking a moment to observe the field. "We'll see about that."

The arena bore a greater resemblance to Cerulean City Gym than it did to any of its earlier incarnations in this tournament. The major difference between the two was that the floating platforms had been replaced with sandbars and atolls, for the tournament organizers had preferred the sight of open ocean to a swimming pool. This was a cause for concern for Green, because psychic types could often levitate, and even if they couldn't they rarely used their limbs to attack, so treading water wasn't an issue hassle. On the other hand, her more diverse team might have a problem.

"Reuniclus, go," Caitlin said lazily, with none of the bravado which usually characterized trainers, and opened her poke ball to summon what looked like an enormous microbe onto the water's surface, giving the impression of a mass of green algae.

Blue smiled. "You're not the only one who can use psychic pokemon, y'know. Go Mew!" A pink blob emerged from her poke ball which slowly took the shape of a cat as it entered the arena, floating calmly above the water.

"Reuniclus, Shadow Ball!" Caitlin ordered, and a large, swirling black ball skipped upon the water, smashing into the small pink feline, who was completely unharmed. "Huh. I thought Mew was a psychic type."

"Mew, transform into a Sharpedo!" Green ordered, confusing her opponent all the more. Yes, Mew certainly could transform; they were one of the few pokemon capable of doing so. The question was why? Even without a type advantage, it was one of the strongest, most versatile pokemon in existence, and legends rarely mention it needing to transform to win. Unless...

"That's not a Mew," Caitlin noted.

"Oops. You caught me," Green admitted. "Was a neat trick though, wasn't it? I mean, had it started out as a Ditto you would've hurt it pretty badly, but since you thought it was a Mew you used a pointless Shadow Ball."

Caitlin grit her teeth. She was not amused. And worse, Reuniclus had nothing to actually hurt a Sharpedo – then again, if Shadow Ball hadn't worked against a Ditto... "Psychic!" she yelled - actually yelled, for she had lost her royal calm; even her valet was shocked to hear her this loud. The Reuniclus made a series of elaborate gestures in the hopes of breaching its opponent's mind, but to no avail: it was clouded in darkness.

"How..." she wondered aloud.

Green smiled. "Transform does change a pokemon's type: the problem was that Ditto hadn't actually transformed yet. It looks similar enough to Mew when it arranges its body right that it can fool most inexperienced trainers, but it's a disguise, not a transformation."

"This isn't like you, Green," Blue yelled from the stands. "You're giving everything away!"

Green winked. "No point in keeping secrets once they've shown their use. And while she was listening to me talk, look at what my pokemon did!" she shouted, pointing excitedly to the Whirlpool of black water which had come to surround the helpless Reuniclus while her false Sharpedo swam in for the knockout.

"Two can play at this game," Caitlin said with renewed determination. "Reuniclus, let's show her a whole room of tricks!" The sea in which the two had spent their battle suddenly rose into the sky, and with it Sharpedo, was lifted, as though gravity had simply ceased to exist. A series of psychic waves shot inward from the shield, which seemed to be sparking out of control. It did not focus at Sharpedo, who it could not hurt anyway, but was a hazard both pokemon would have to deal with for as long as the Trick Room remained this way. And the ground and the sky above the sea changed their color from a soft blue into a bright, prismatic rainbow of endless light.

And perhaps most importantly of all, the slower pokemon now had the first move. "Reuniclus, Focus Blast," Caitlin ordered, her calm regained. Like a character out of Dragonball Z, the Reuniclus gathered a golden mass of ki from its own body into its bubbly hand, which it then hurled at the swimming Sharpedo. But the water and the lights it had earlier summoned had disrupted the Reuniclus' own concentration, so the blast was hurled through the water about a foot to the right of its target.

"Sharpedo, I know it doesn't look tasty, but Crunch it anyway!" Green shouted with youthful excitement. The Sharpedo swam down through the layer of water, then steered itself with its fins through the air until it landed on the blob of green goo it called its foe this match and attempted to bite through it. The entire left side of the Reuniclus was eaten, but Sharpedo was having great difficulty chewing it, and in the meantime the oversized microbe began to regenerate through mitosis.

"Reuniclus, Focus Blast won't miss from this distance – hit it with another one!" Caitlin shouted back, letting the excitement of battle get the better of her. The attack seemed as much a punch as a blast this time, for Reuniclus gave the blue and white shark a direct, energy-charged right hook (as its left arm hadn't grown back yet) right into its skin. Yet as injured as Sharpedo was, it was Reuniclus who shrieked in pain, for the water pokemon's rough skin had stabbed the psychic-type's arm during the punch.

"I wish its mouth was in better shape, but even sharks don't grow their teeth back quite this fast. Sharpedo, Waterfall!" Rather than the typical ramming associated with this attack, Sharpedo remained in place to pull the water down towards itself in a reassertion of gravity; it collided with both pokemon and washed away Reuniclus in the process.

Caitlin sighed, closing her eyes and yawning as she returned her defeated first pokemon. "I guess I underestimated you after all. But don't think turning into a dark type means you can sweep this match. Come out, Musharna."

As the pink floating tapir emerged, wrapped in a chain of pink Dream Mist, Green laughed as she made a realization. "No wonder you're always so tired."

Caitlin smiled. "I don't mind: I love my dreams. But even if I didn't, it would be completely worth it. Now it's time for your Ditto to dream – Yawn!"

"Ditto, transform into Noct-" Green began, then paused. She couldn't do it. Noctowl were birds, after all, and despite the fact that she had registered three of her own this tournament, she still hadn't quite conquered that fear: she hated the thought of seeing Ditto in such a horrible form.

"On second thought, don't. Transform into..." There were other pokemon every bit as invulnerable to sleep – Hypno, Ariados, and a few more – but all of them had slipped through Green's tired and frozen brain. Ditto instead simply transformed into a shark-shaped puddle of goo, unable to maintain its transformation as it slept, and Green fell silent.

And so did both trainers.

When they awoke about ten minutes later to an endless symphony of boos and the odd thrown object bouncing off the psychic shield, Ditto was an unconscious pink blob floating atop the water. The Trick Room had faded and the field returned to normal, save for the islands being in different parts of the arena than they originally had been, although neither trainer paid the scattered land much mind.

Green gripped her next poke ball as she had the one before, making the same call with which she had opened the match. "Go Mew!" A small pink cat emerged from her belt, not even needing Green to lift the ball for it, and floated gently into the air. From its appearance it might as well have been a long-tailed flying Skitty, but all knew of its awesome, versatile reputation.

"Don't think I'll fall for the same trick twice. Musharna, Psychic!"

"Mew..." Green paused for a minute as she tried to recall what moveset she had given her ace pokemon this time, while psychic waves bounced harmlessly off its bright pink fur. "Taunt!" Mew's tail curled around itself, then slashed the air in a series of aggressive gestures while it raised its paws in a fighting position, and Musharna was visibly angered.

"Wait a minute," Caitlin remarked. "That's an illegal move. This tournament runs under a species clause! You can't use two Ditto! Judge?"

Green smirked. "I am not using two Ditto," she answered and the judge nodded in agreement.

"Smeargle, then? But that's impossible. It wouldn't enter the match as a Mew." Caitlin pondered aloud.

"Closer." Green added, sticking out her tongue to taunt. But not quite. Here, I'll give you the answer: Mew, Surf!" Pulling a surfboard out of its fur like it was a magician's hat, Mew stopped floating and danced upon the waves as it summoned them with its pure momentum, then performed a 540 over Musharna, drenching it in the process.

"Surf? Wait a minute..." Caitlin paused, mouth agape with shock. "Mew's real? And you managed to catch it?"

"And it's battling you right now. Don't be so surprised: you've seen other legends this tournament. But can you defeat someone who has the genes of all pokemon and the power to learn every move?"

Caitlin struggled to stand. She wanted to give up, but too many were watching her, and she couldn't humiliate herself like that. "I... I have to try. Musharna, Shadow Ball!" Mew's surfboard worked against it now, for the ball Musharna hurled was able to track the board's shadow on the waves until it collided with the small and ancient feline: a direct and painful hit. Maybe she could win this after all.

"Mew, this isn't working. Calm Mind!" Green shouted, and Mew ditched the surfboard, sending it careening into its opponent. The projectile was far too small to hurt, and Mew didn't bother to watch it as it dove beneath the waves it had created to clear its head and focus its power: it wasn't a waterfall, but it was the next best thing.

"It's not as tough as it looks! Hit it with another Shadow Ball!" Caitlin shouted, and the pokemon of dreams fired into the water, creating a large, wet vortex on the other side of the arena from Mew. Musharna, after all, were not known for their eyesight, and the ocean water was thick with waves and shadows.

And Mew, although not ordinarily amphibious, could breathe virtually anything: it had been born before the world had been oxygenated and possessed no fear of drowning. As Musharna fired ball after ball into the water, Mew allowed its power to grow until the time was right.

"Surf!" Green commanded, and at her call Mew surfaced with an enormous, towering wave rivaling those of Carracosta and Walrein earlier in the tournament, if not those of Kyogre itself. Musharna was thrown by the enormous wave all around the arena and ultimately found shelter in Caitlin's own trainer box, but it wasn't just pretending to sleep this time around. The only people who could tell were the judge and its trainer, but Musharna had fainted all the same.

Caitlin had one pokemon left. Mew could learn Explosion, and knowing Green, it probably had. She'd have to find a counter, and she only had the one. "Gothitelle, I'm counting on you!"

Green laughed. "You Unovans certainly have some... interesting pokemon. What's that supposed to be – the ghost of your country's fashion sense?" The gothic lolita psychic glared angrily at her, although its dress shape and many white bows made her complaint more than a little understandable.

"This girl's willing to goad her opponent into attacking a trainer to get a win. Gothitelle, don't fall for it, just keep calm and Psych Up – you'll need it to handle Mew." The very much living psychic nodded, swaying and bending in an eerie fashion, like a stick within the water or a snake on a windy tree.

When it finished, Green wasn't laughing anymore; it was hard to see without experience or from the stands, but it was now every bit as serious and powerful as Mew. "If this thing's as strong as it looks, I won't be able to rely on my third pokemon to finish the job. So it's up to you now, Mew - hit it with a surf!" There would be no hidden projectile in its fur this time; it rode across the water, using its long tail as a surfboard as it built an enormous wave, but skidded upon an island, tripped, and half-fell, half-flew through its psychic-type foe into the shield covering the arena.

"Gothitelle, Shadow Ball! While it's still prone – don't let it Recover!"

Green shook her head. "Still wondering what my fourth move is, aren't you?" Her opponent nodded tersely; nothing she actually _used _could be worse than this anticipation. "You know, I'm tired of Shadow Ball. Mew, transform into something that won't be affected – say, maybe your creator. You know how, right?"

As the large, black orb sped towards it, Mew's form shifted in countless ways; its head grew narrower, legs much larger, and the golden spokes of an incomplete wheel – the wheel of the universe – appeared on its back. To shouts of "Sacrilege!" from the Sinnoh section of the crowd and an amused smile from the one into whom it transformed, a false Arceus appeared on the field.

And this was a false Arceus who wore no plates and had no reason to fear ghost attacks.

"Gothitelle..." Caitlin began, but the pokemon had begun to bow down in worship as though it was facing the real thing. "Gothitelle, do you know what happens if you defeat Arceus?"

"Gothi?" the pokemon responded, giving her trainer a quizzical look.

"You gain all its power. At least, that's what I've heard: it's never been done, after all. But we will – not just in this round, but whenever we fight the real one too! Gothitelle, Psyshock!"

An enormous pendulum-shaped blade appeared in the mind of the transformed Mew, which slowly materialized into reality as it sped towards the Alpha pokemon.

"Block it and finish this match. Give it your own Shadow Ball!" The spokes of Arceus rotated faster and faster as it sped around the arena chased by Gothitelle's homing strike. The setting sun did not provide many shadows, but there was enough of a crowd: an enormous ball of dark energy emerged, which did not so much fly towards Gothitelle as suck it in, along with the water and islands to boot.

It was complete overkill: an ordinary Shadow Ball would have been more than enough. The Psyshock had not stopped pursuing the beast of creation, nor was it sucked into the miniature black hole: an unconscious Arceus reverted to the form of Mew and was drenched by an enormous falling tub of water. But Gothitelle seemed to be fading out of existence, barely corporeal and clearly unconscious: Green would never have used such an attack if not for the skill of the medical Blissey staff on hand.

"Both pokemon are unable to battle. Victory in this battle goes to Green of Pallet Town!"

A land bridge had appeared connecting the two trainers' boxes: perhaps the unconscious Mew simply wanted them to have a chance to shake hands, or perhaps it was the strange semi-magical way of the arena. The two did not meet in the middle: Green had stepped out for a handshake, but Caitlin had not moved forward, only to her knees as she cried. "A thief... I lost to a petty thief," she muttered, tears flowing like the attack of a confused water-type, for they only brought her more sorrow with the humiliation of such a public breakdown.

"It's okay, man. You fought well," Green said, trying to console her wounded opponent.

"No I didn't. I didn't just lose. I lost in the first round, and it was the biggest loss so far this tournament! I never even saw your third pokemon!" Caitlin answered through tears.

Green smiled. "Yeah, I beat you bad. But the tournament's not over. Maybe I'll beat everyone else by even more!"

"Don't kid yourself," Caitlin retorted. And then she laughed – not laughing at her audacity, but laughing because this girl had found what she had forgotten. "On second thought... you might be right."

"I might?" Green was quite confused by this: she hadn't expected her opponent, or indeed anyone but herself, to actually agree. Victory or not, her record wasn't the best.

"Yeah, you might. Because you know how to have fun with pokemon battles, and that's the real secret of success in these matches; even type match-ups aren't as important," Caitlin answered. "And besides, the way your Ditto and Mew have mastered transform – well, even Duplica would have trouble beating you!"

Green was momentarily lost in recollection; she counted Duplica as a good friend, but her Ditto were better at transforming than at actually fighting. Then again, that was probably what Caitlin meant, and being able to turn into any pokemon in the stands was much better than being restricted to emulating their opponent like most Ditto trainers. That said, Sharpedo was a lucky break; she had watched a tape of Maxie and Archie's match the night before with her Ditto, and she had only watched it because she was remembering how awesome the battle looked. Had she been reviewing tapes of Caitlin, her actual opponent, or one of the many other trainers she could have drawn, maybe she would even have lost.

"I've beaten her. And I'll beat everyone else, too. I may not look like much, but it's not wise to underestimate me – I'll take a champion's throne myself someday!" And with a wink and her opponent's smile, Green left the arena, hoping to back up her boasts in the second round.


	6. Match 6!  Cyrus vs Arceus!

A scant six were gathered this time around, all of whom had studied each potential foe. There were few friends left to banter with, few enemies left to hate: they had moved on or gone home and only one trainer from each region remained.

And Arceus.

Cyrus of Sinnoh was a bit perturbed by the collection of characters who faced him. Two pokedex holders, a gym leader who had stopped her region's own revolutionary team (not that Cyrus agreed with Archie and Maxie's aims, but the only reason Winona didn't despise him just as much was because of her unfamiliarity with his cause,) a champion, and Arceus almighty. He had a distinct feeling that, were this not an organized tournament, they would just gang up on him and beat him to a bloody pulp. But he'd have to win four matches regardless of who he faced or when he faced them; at least he wasn't fighting all fifteen contestants at once.

He had to win to have his wish granted, to remake the world in his image. Maybe he didn't have the distortion world or the lake guardians or hordes of fanatical minions to do his bidding, but he had his pokemon, and he hoped they would be enough.

As Cyrus looked up at the scoreboard, half of it was unsurprising: he had somewhat expected his turn to come. He just didn't expect it to be against Arceus. At least, not yet against Arceus: he knew he'd have to beat the God of Creation sooner or later. But he thought that meant the final. Not the first round. He wondered briefly why it had even been placed in the tournament: surely, even the greatest trainers would struggle against the creator of all things! And if Arceus – damned Arceus – pulled off the likely victory, the tournament would not find the greatest of trainers, but would only prove the futility of Man.

"You know, Cyrus," the god in human form began. "I, too, once sought to shape the world in my image."

"Save it," the human who sought to supplant God and bring forth instrumentality answered. "If you had done it right the first time, I wouldn't need to defeat you today!"

The two trainers stepped into their boxes; all of Sinnoh had once been their battlefield, but today it would merely be a stadium. A stadium which consisted of a narrow bridge about the width of a large pokemon such as Snorlax. And below and around it, a black abyss which extended far deeper than the eye could see.

The judge took pains to inform the trainers that, although falling at least ten feet into the abyss meant disqualification, the pokemon would be safe and the depth was largely for show. Neither showed much emotion in response, although both hurriedly adjusted their battle plans, for even Arceus, despite the legends, was not actually omniscient.

"Fly through the darkness. I will not fall to the trio of balance!" Cyrus shouted, speaking the word 'balance' with all the contempt he held for the world in general and Uxie, Mesprit, and Azelf in particular: the sort of way a hero might refer to the forces of evil. "Go, Honchkrow!" A large black bird emerged with markings which recalled either a pimp or a classy gentleman, depending on who you asked.

"I thought you had studied better. Do you truly think the lake trio are the only pokemon I command? It's time for you to learn your lesson. Come out, Dialga." A metallic blue dragon the size of Kyogre or Groudon emerged, with lighter blue patches of scales along its body somewhat resembling veins, and a back, tail, and pair of ears covered in steel spikes.

"Really, a time pun? I thought you were above that, Arceus," Cyrus said, his voice filled with such disappointment that Arceus couldn't tell if he was joking. "Honchkrow, knock it into the abyss! Superpower!" With the mix of raw audacity and force out of all proportion to its small size that typified a superhero, Honchkrow dove into its foe and attempted to push it off the ledge with its wings, but Dialga held firm.

"You know, Cyrus. It'd be easier to fight a Murkrow trick and a young trainer who hadn't yet turned his back on the world," Arceus mused. "Let it be done. Dialga, Roar of Time!"

Cyrus clasped his hands to his ears and pushed furiously to block out the sound: it was certainly tempting to be restored to a more innocent, ignorant age, but he would not return to his past, not even to escape this present. Honchkrow tried likewise, but it was not so fortunate; it had wings instead of hands and internal ears, so it could not block out the warping, time-shifting sound.

It did not become a Murkrow chick, nor even a Murkrow, despite Arceus' command. What instead happened was a profound, painful disorientation, as it saw Dialga everywhere and nowhere, the arena before it was built and the arena after it had fallen; the enormity of a total perspective vortex in the middle of a pokemon battle.

It soon snapped out of it, not from any sanity of its own, but from the voice of its trainer piercing through Dialga's roar. "Mirror Move!"

Honchkrow's move, given the shape of its mouth, might have been more aptly called "Chirp of Time," but although the sound was dramatically different, the disorientation was the same.

"Pull yourself together! Dialga, you shall not lose to Time!" Arceus' voice was loud enough to fill the arena, but the exhausted pokemon was stuck millions of years in the past. It was lucky for it that its own attack prevented it from moving, for had it moved around even a few steps in the lush mesozoic fields it saw, it surely would have fallen to its defeat. It was injured, but so was its opponent.

The crowd was lucky not to hear it, for it would have caused mass hysteria, but they wished they heard it all the same: there was something profoundly disappointing about hearing pokemon commanded to roar and watching them take damage without actually hearing a note.

Reoriented in their own time, their energy returned, two pokemon faced one another again awaiting the orders of their trainers.

"That was dangerous, Cyrus," Arceus said. "The attack didn't just affect Dialga. Had it been just a little stronger, I can only wonder what world we would live in today."

"And I would welcome it!" Cyrus shouted with victorious elation.

"Don't be so stupid! There are far more terrifying worlds I could have made, worlds which you would despise even more," Arceus said sternly. "There isn't much better than the pokemon world out there, I'm afraid. And a whole lot which could be worse."

"From your perspective, but of course it would be, for this is your own creation," Cyrus retorted.

Arceus sighed. "Want to have a vote? I doubt Platinum, Diamond, Pearl, or anyone else would be all too happy with your dream. That said, I can't risk another Roar of Time, so Dialga, hit it with a Diamond Blow!" The great dragon opened its mouth, then blew a sharp stream of diamonds at the Honchkrow, slicing through its wing. The bird half-fell, half-dove onto the bridge at the center of the arena, then climbed up with its one good wing to at least continue the match, if not to counter with some devastating strike.

Cyrus was deep in thought, wondering just what kind of strike he could use. Superpower had failed to topple it, and a Mirror Move of that attack wouldn't do much against a pokemon covered in armor like Dialga. Roost could heal it, but it could just leave it vulnerable, depending on how well it worked. Which left one option.

"Honchkrow, Brave Bird!" It wasn't the ordinary version of the attack, but that was to its advantage. Instead, because it was grounded, its attack looked more like a Dodrio's Brave Bird or maybe even a Double Edge. Honchkrow ran up to its foe with suicidal speed, through Dialga's enormous front legs in order to ram into its back left leg. The great dragon lost its balance and fell into the abyss, but Honchkrow's own momentum had given it the same fate. With its pure black color, it disappeared within seconds: Dialga took much longer to disappear, but was disqualified nearly as quickly.

Cyrus smiled. He hadn't expected to still be in this match. But Arceus had to have more dragons where that came from: it probably could choose from any pokemon, but the six it had chosen this time almost certainly included Palkia and Giratina. And he had not been prepared to counter the dragons, for he loved darkness, not ice.

But he had a quasi-dragon of his own, and one who could fly as well! "Come out, Gyarados!" Cyrus roared as a giant blue and beige serpent with eight fin-like white wings on its spine emerged from his poke ball.

Arceus was unfazed. "Interesting. I have a water dragon of my own. I wonder which of us has a stronger one. Go, Palkia," This beast was robust enough in shape that Gyarados looked like a tiny waif in comparison, with four thick legs and a long neck and head which has often been compared to male genitalia. It was silver in color with various purple markings and red eyes which sat in its head in a way which recalled a robot. Despite its slightly larger size and enormous reputation, it shrunk back from the Gyarados, Intimidated by its appearance.

"Start things off with a Spacial Rend." Arceus ordered. "Make Cyrus know the consequences of rebuilding the universe." A searing pink light sliced through Gyarados' tail, leaving behind an enormous sickle-shaped hole through the very dimension in which they lived above the left side of the bridge. Cyrus barely remained in his trainer's box, leaning over in the hopes of getting a look as to what lay on the other side, but all he could see was light.

"Gyarados, outrage! And be careful not to hit that thing!" Cyrus shouted, pointing to the strange light: the tear in the space-time continuum. The Gyarados ducked under the cosmic void, then whipped its body headfirst into Palkia's leg, but the stouter pokemon, although its leg was bleeding, did not even flinch.

"Palkia, another Spacial Rend!" Gyarados nimbly dodged the attack, which was off-target and came to the right of the bridge, forming a strange, unearthly open ring around the center of the bridge.

"Cyrus. I thought better of you. You didn't really think that attack was aimed for Gyarados, did you?"

"Save it," the Galactic head answered angrily. "Gyarados still had to get out of the way. Now use Outrage – hit it head on!" Flying as straight as a missile this time, unable to thrash without falling into another dimension, the Gyarados rammed Palkia again, headbutting it with what little force it could muster with its small size and slow, careful flight pattern.

"Palkia. Finish the job. Gravity!"

"Gyarados, be careful! Land!" Cyrus shouted desperately, but his cry was in vain. Before the great serpent could force itself to the ground, it found itself pulled in two more directions, and unable to resist the countervailing forces gave way to one of the dimensional voids. "Return!" He shouted, firing a red laser from his poke ball, but the shot missed the thin serpent and he fell to his knees in tears.

"From the day my journey began with a Magikarp..." 

Arceus laughed and suddenly understood. "No wonder you hate the world. Sorry about that one," the great god said, but Cyrus was too broken by sorrow to hear it. Gracefully, the silver-haired trainer returned to its true form, bounding through the void and retrieving an unconscious Gyarados in its mouth. "Those who rule that dimension understand that pokemon are my area of influence."

It was then that Cyrus stopped crying not only on the outside, as he had for a minute, but also on the inside, as he had for years. Arceus, who he so hated, had saved his first pokemon.

"So what will you do now?" Arceus asked. It was an open question regardless of which way he interpreted it. For the battle, he had three choices – only three, for he had never trained a sixth pokemon, although one was registered as a placeholder on the roster for the final battle if he made it that far. And with the way gravity was working none of those choices were very good: he'd be lucky to do so much as take down Palkia, let alone face Giratina when it came.

For the rest of his life, he had infinite options, yet no clue whatsoever which to choose. Team Galactic had been born not to fulfill his dreams, but to destroy the world and build a new one in its place. If this world was not as cruel as he feared, if Arceus was truly kindhearted... well, it certainly raised a lot of questions as to the future of his organization. Not that he was the only factor in this. Team Rocket had outlasted Giovanni's surrender, after all. The cultish group of universal revolution he had created was probably here to stay no matter what he said or did.

As for the battle, Crobat was a flying type and the Spacial Rends had changed that from a great advantage to a horrible peril. Weavile was both a biped and fairly small, so it lacked the mass to not be knocked off by any attacks his opponent tried. Which left one choice. "Houndoom, send Palkia to hell! Thunder Fang!" A great black dog emerged, a cross between the Church Grim and a one-headed Cerberus, covered in bones and snorting out flames. Lower to the earth than Gyarados, it felt the forces of the Spacial Rends, but held firm, slowly approaching Palkia across the bridge, mouth open and fangs crackling with lightning.

"Palkia, finish this match. Spacial Rend the bridge!" Arceus shouted, the Palkia grasped space with its hands and began to pull. Houndoom broke into a sprint and bit into Palkia's knee, and before it could strike, Palkia fainted and the world it had ripped apart was restored at once.

But it would be distorted once more.

"I have shown you destruction. Now I shall show you your foolish, unworkable dream. I have sealed it away, but I bring it out for moments like this. Giratina, go," A pokemon with a vague resemblance to a Gyarados in shape emerged, but this pokemon was a ghost with a grey body, golden spiked head and neck armor, black and red stripes, and eight black tentacles which distorted reality as they moved.

Cyrus sighed. "You have done no such thing, nor will you. Even you can not peer into my mind; Giratina will create not my dream, but your nightmare. If I let it. Houndoom, Dark pulse!" It was difficult to see the attack against the night sky and the black abyss below, but the way Giratina's silver head had turned dark as it was knocked to the right and shrieked in pain revealed that the attack had made contact.

Arceus nodded. "Solid logic. Though many have sought to use logic to disprove Me outright, so I suppose just being told I'm wrong is a step up. Very well then. Giratina, Shadow Force," the God spoke, and the great dragon disappeared.

As the crowd asked what kind of attack consisted of disappearing and booed their Creator and his undead creation, Cyrus understood exactly what was going on, and he did not fear it. "Houndoom, Nasty Plot," he commanded, and Houndoom rubbed the surface of the narrow bridge with his paws, sketching out something malevolent in the ground.

And then Giratina materialized – not before him, but inside and outside him, Houndoom howling in pain as their two existences themselves collided, then running back towards its trainer, more spooked than injured by the attack.

"Dark Pulse!" Houndoom spun around to face the dragon, then spat a vortex of black light into the great god's face, engulfing it in darkness. And as it did, Cyrus began to wonder. Perhaps Arceus did not have the power to rule the world effectively. Perhaps he really could do better. Perhaps his dreams were truly his to grasp.

And then he heard the crowd.

"Get up, Giratina!"

"You can do it!"

"Don't let Team Galactic rule the world!"

"We love you Arceus!"

Many more shouts of that nature came, too numerous to name and not all of them from the Sinnoh section, although the loudest certainly were. He wanted to rebuke them – to shout about how they were fools and how even they would benefit when he remade a world of peace and harmony. But as far as they were concerned, they were already living in utopia. Instead, Cyrus froze. He was wrapped into a crisis of the will at the worst possible moment for his cause.

And then Arceus spoke his final words of the match. "Dragon Tail."

Perhaps, given orders, Houndoom could have done something. Instead, the loyal dog froze, lacking the independence of thought to even jump without a trainer's command, and was swept off into the abyss.

Two healing machines appeared next to Cyrus and Arceus as if through magic (and perhaps it truly was) containing the poke balls of Honchkrow and Houndoom on one side and Gyarados on the other. The abyss disappeared as suddenly as it had revealed itself, and an ordinary field replaced it. Arceus recalled Giratina and two trainers walked across where a bridge had stood to shake hands, still acting as though the whole stadium change was an elaborate optical illusion.

Cyrus held out his hand, not knowing what to say. Had he failed? Had he been awakened? Or did he merely need to grow stronger? Arceus offered no answer – not in that way, at least. "You're a skilled trainer and a skilled leader, but I have not seen your creations. I wonder if you truly could make a better world... show me, if you can, for I do not understand your goals."

Once, he would have jumped at the offer. This day, Cyrus merely accepted a handshake; what Arceus had not already rejected Cyrus himself was beginning to question.

"You would not be the first to persuade me, if you did," the God whispered as the two crossed paths, heading forward to each other's entrances – their exits. "Long ago, a bug collector from Kanto did just that – what was his name again, Satoshi?" Arceus mused, recalling a forgotten world, another dimension, a time so distant that even God had begun to forget.

And then Arceus departed, lest the people go overboard in response to some action, inadvertently changing human religion as the world knew it. And Cyrus – sure to be Cyrus the Great before long, the man who challenged and touched Arceus and survived – departed for Sinnoh and a long search through his own soul. And the soul the world possessed, the soul of Arceus and that man named Satoshi, the soul reflected in so many pokemon.


	7. Match 7!  Blue vs Crystal!

Only four trainers met today for the remaining two spots in the quarterfinals, fewer than the six victors who watched from the stands. Two gym leaders were among them, one the other leader of Hoenn's efforts against Aqua and Magma, but who had been thought not to even be the strongest of her region, the other the interim head of Viridian City Gym. There was one champion who had held Unova's crown for a long time and recently regained it from Black, and one ex-champion often called the "Half-hour Champion" for the speed of his dethronement at the hands of his rival. And there were two pokedex holders – one from Johto, one from Kanto.

The fact that Blue was one of the trainers in all of these comparisons didn't trouble him; on the contrary, it meant there would be an interesting angle to whoever he ended up facing. Two super-deformed faces soon appeared on the scoreboard, revealing to a hundred thousand people that it would be the pokedex holder, Crystal of New Bark Town, who would be his opponent. Winona and Alder glanced at each other with anticipation in their eyes, but their battle would not be until the evening, so both of them returned to their rooms to review film and plot their strategy for the next match. They both knew in advance (if a short advance and only through the process of elimination) who they would be fighting, which was more than anyone else could say.

The two trainers who were about to battle did not know one another well, but what little they did know they respected. Blue admired Crystal's skill at capturing pokemon and her tenacity in coming back from an injury which would have ended the careers of many a trainer (though playing soccer with poke balls still had to be seen to be believed,) while Crystal respected Blue's own support against Team Rocket. There would be none of the bitter rivalry which had marked so many of the other matches, just two skilled trainers, both desperate to win.

The two pokemon would battle on conveyer belts so big they took up half the width of the stadium, which carried their cargo into Pikachu-shaped tasers which shocked any pokemon who dared get too close. This electricity was not the only in the area, for although it was only drizzling slightly, lightning fell like in the fiercest of storms. Yet running against the belt did not lead to safety, for between the two belts sat an open pit. The pit was less deep than that in the previous match, and falling did not mean disqualification, but this was little comfort, given that the pit this time was electrified.

"Charizard, go!" Blue shouted, and a great orange dragon (at least in appearance, although taxonomists know better) with its enormous, orange and teal wings and an eternal flame on its tail roared into battle, dangerously stomping the conveyer belt as it moved.

"Suicune, you can win this!" It was met with a large blue legendary beast as much canine as feline, its fur dotted by crystalline spots. Suicune's purple mane flowed all the way down its back as if it was being blown by the north wind, and a white, ribbon-like tail swirled around its legs so many times it was a miracle Suicune didn't constantly trip.

"Start things off with a Hydro Pump!" Crys ordered, and the tail lifted itself into the air, swirling to create a vortex of wind which collected raindrops from the sky. It soon flung its tail forward to fire the vortex at the Charizard, who jumped into the air and flew out of the way of the attack.

"Charizard, Fire Spin!" After spending the entirety of Suicune's attack taking a deep breath, from deep in the dragon's stomach a towering inferno of flames burnt through the rain to envelop and scorch Suicune in its might. When the attack finished, Charizard stopped flapping its wings and hovered in midair, visibly exhausted.

"Suicune, race through the flames and jump!" Crys ordered, and blinded by the inferno, Suicune complied. It was badly singed, but made it not only through the flames, but above the pit of thunder all the way to the other side of the arena. "Now, hit it with an Aurora Beam!" 

"Aurora Beam? Why not Ice Beam?" Blue asked, momentarily puzzled by the attack choice. He soon understood, for the beam not only struck Charizard's wing, but left it sitting dazzled by the aurora's colors, forgetting its own pain. The attack continued this way for about a minute, far longer than it had any business doing, until Charizard roared in pain, regained its adrenaline, and finally paid attention to the attack command its trainer had been shouting nonstop for the past thirty seconds: "Seismic Toss!"

Charizard dove low to the ground, snatching Suicune up from its position. It didn't fly particularly high, let alone around the earth. The struggling and quite heavy carnivore kicked, screamed, and spat water at it and even tried to bind the two pokemon together with its tail, and was dropped halfway through above the pit of thunder.

A less tough water pokemon would have fainted from this attack, but Suicune had learned much from its latest trainer. Using its own tail as a rope, it climbed out of the pit, crackling with lightning as it rose. "Tailwind!" Crys shouted, and Suicune's roar summoned an enormous wind at its back which carried past it, forcing Charizard to fall down to the conveyer belt and run with everything it had to avoid being hit by a powerful electric attack.

"Aurora Beam!"

"Fire Spin!"

Charizard attempted to take in enough energy to fill the arena with fire, but belched out only a weak cloud of smoke before being dazzled like the fans by an aurora not fired at its wing or neck, but harmlessly up into the sky. As it was watching, the fire-type forget to outrun the conveyer belt and tailwind (which to it was more of a headwind) and was zapped by the Pikachu-shaped taser at the edge of the arena.

And zapped.

And zapped some more.

"Charizard, return!" Blue shouted, reluctantly acknowledging the inevitable; if this went on too much longer, his starter pokemon would faint without taking down a single foe. Not that it was all that far from doing so even now. "Go, Exeggutor!"

Crys held her laughter at the odd pokemon's appearance; it may have been a tropical plant with six fruits for heads, but it did have a type advantage and an impressive mental acumen; it wasn't stupid enough to fall for her Aurora Beam trick. On the other hand, it was still weak against ice. "Suicune, another Aurora Beam!" she shouted, and boosted by the wind, a beam of snow and ice coated in multicolored light rammed into the oversized bush in a point-blank shot. The beam struck one of the leaves which shielded its head and it froze and fell onto the conveyer belt, which took it into an electric incinerator.

"Exeggutor, Wood Hammer!" Crys briefly wondered which part of the Exeggutor's body could ever be converted into something resembling a hammer – or wood for that matter. Her question was soon answered as Exeggutor ran the short distance needed to hit her pokemon, had its foot solidify and change shape to a hammer, which it raised as it stood on one leg, then pounded into the Suicune's foot in some bizarre attempt to cripple an opponent.

And it worked. The hobbled, wounded Suicune slumped against the moving ground, beaten by an Exeggutor of all things, who did look a bit hurt by its own efforts. "Suicune, return!" she yelled, catching it with the poke ball's laser seconds before it would fall. "Go..." she began, trying to quickly figure out the optimal matchup for that strange pokemon before her before Exeggutor fell in: she didn't want an unfair advantage, or a disadvantage, for she would quite possibly be penalized for gaining one and her opponent's pokemon resisted electricity anyway. "Arcanine!"

Were it not for the existence of Entei, the beast she summoned might have been called Suicune's fire-type counterpart. It was certainly more doglike in its appearance than Suicune; no one would call this beast a feline even if the rebuttal to such a description wasn't in its own name. It was a large, reddish-orange beast with black stripes that recalled Raikou's and a true, off-white mane, not the flowing hair "mane" of a Suicune.

The tailwind had faded. Both pokemon were on their own side, facing off against each other across an open pit. "I wonder how well Exeggutor burn. Arcanine, start this off with a Will-o-Wisp!"

Blue did a double take as the light blue, spectral orb floated slowly towards the Exeggutor; wouldn't it make more sense to just use flamethrower? This girl's style was certainly an unorthodox one; had she beaten all her opponents by confusing them until they lost all sense of a coherent strategy? She wouldn't be the first to do that to him: Green did it all the time.

And if so, Blue had fallen right into her trap – that, or Exeggutor simply had no room to run. When the orb made contact with Exeggutor, the grass pokemon's leaves caught on fire, and ignoring the rain and its usual concentration, it ran around in circles trying to put it out and began falling into the pit.

"Exeggutor, don't fall! The rain will put you out – don't worry about that, climb back up by using Vine Whip on the belt!" Blue shouted desperately, but his pokemon could not comply; in his desperation to save his pokemon, he had forgotten that Exeggutor could not actually learn Vine Whip. Not, of course, like another order would have mattered.

"Exeggutor, return!" Blue yelled soon after it fell: at least the pit didn't do its damage too quickly. As bad as things looked, he was thankful that he hadn't lost a single pokemon, although two of them had been badly hurt. Then again, one of those two probably wouldn't get a better match-up than this one. "Charizard, your turn again. Earthquake Arcanine's conveyer belt!"

The Charizard flew over unchallenged; there was no sense in fighting fire with fire, and for a moment, Crys watched helplessly; if the belt fell, this match was as good as over. "Arcanine, Extremespeed!"

Charizard's attack was a direct hit – at least, on the belt, which buckled in two and fell into the electrified pit, creating a pile of rubble barred the lightning and was actually safer than the land on which it had stood. Yet in an orange blur, Arcanine escaped the collapse and stood facing Blue on a different conveyer belt, but failed to stop before it, too, got a jolt of its own.

Crys grit her teeth. She was behind and she knew it; there was no easy move to make here. Arcanine, a physical attacker, had almost worn out its usefulness in this match, for there was so little room left to run. She'd just have to make sure it brought someone with it. "Finish it off! Extremespeed again, this time at Charizard!"

An orange blur. An orange fake dragon, trying to stop it with hands and wings alike, but lacking the reflexes. And two pokemon missing the rubble and falling into the electric side of the pit, one fainting on contact with its opponent, the other the moment it hit the lightning.

"Xatu, go," Crys said, sounding clearly dejected – it wasn't that she had given up, but her earlier enthusiasm had considerably dimmed as she faced defeat and a green bird with white wings flew out of her poke ball, looking more like it should have flown out of a work of ancient Mesoamerican art.

She hadn't counted on the possibility that her opponent was out of flying pokemon. "Damn. Shouldn't have left Pidgeot at home," he muttered, thinking over his four remaining poke balls; he didn't have a type advantage in the bunch. "Go, Porygon2!"

The pokemon he summoned bore a vague resemblance to members of the order Anseriformes such as Magmar and Ducklett, but real Anseriformes were not bright pink and blue of the sort of computer-generated colors one rarely sees offline, nor were they made up entirely of interlocking cylinders. Without the protection of cyberspace, the creature was virtually immobile, but it was sturdy enough to remain in place despite the conveyer belt's motion. It almost seemed like it was still halfway in the digital world.

"Thunder Wave," Crys ordered, and as lightning fell from the sky, Xatu's eyes glowed an eerie yellow and the bolt became a wave, flying outward in all directions and short-circuiting its mechanical foe.

"Ice Beam," Blue answered, but his pokemon did not comply, either because it couldn't hear his command, or simply because it couldn't move. Crys was grinning as Porygon2 stalled, like she had finally won the match.

"Psychic!" she soon shouted, and blue waves seemed to envelop the rain, redirecting it from a slight drizzle to a fierce downpour localized entirely right above the Porygon2, who hummed in pain as water poured into its circuits.

It would not fall so easily.

"Porygon2, Thunderbolt!" Blue yelled, and as though Xatu's attack had been reversed, a bolt flew from the mechanical duck into the Xatu's wings, causing it to flap around like a Zubat as it circled the arena in search for a landing spot.

"Xatu, there's only one piece of solid ground in this whole arena outside the rubble pit. So roost on Porygon2's head!" The bird gave a brief nod of its beak to confirm its compliance, then half-crashed, half-landed feet first on the head of the paralyzed pile of cylinders which called itself a pokemon.

It was hard to tell whether Blue or his Porygon2 was more surprised by this technique. "What are you doing? You can't roost on a pokemon's head!"

"Nothing in the rules against it."

"Yeah, but..." Blue sighed. "Forget this. I'll show you why it's a bad move. Porygon2, Thunderbolt!" The paralyzed pokemon attempted to make its lightning flow upwards, surrounding itself with the crackling electricity which Xatu had shocked it with earlier, but to no avail; like a Pidgey on a power line, the electricity failed to flow upwards and Porygon2 only shocked itself.

"Xatu, Drill Peck!" Taunting its opponent, Xatu flipped over slowly, until instead of standing on the Porygon2 it hovered upside-down while drilling its bright yellow beak into its opponent's head.

"Porygon2, you can't win in this position!" Blue shouted, recalling his pokemon in a flash of red light, not that he had much in the way of options. "Exeggutor, it's your turn again!" The green tropical bush emerged from its poke ball once again; at least it had a head or six that would be a bit more uncomfortable as a resting spot – being on fire had its advantages - although on Crys' order Xatu began Drill Pecking it all the same.

It would have one attack before another Drill Peck and the burn wounds took it out, if it didn't just fall into the pit again and faint – it had been hurt pretty badly by her Arcanine and Suicune. So there was no real downside in what he was about to do, although Blue never liked to sacrifice his pokemon. "Exeggutor, Explosion!"

At first glance, Exeggutor detonated like a bomb, its six heads exploding in a flash of light and leaving nothing behind, an intentional casualty of the drive to win at any cost. Seasoned trainers and fans, of course, knew this was not the case; when the light faded, Exeggutor could be seen face-down at the bottom of the pit, fainted, but intact and very much alive. It had only expelled its outer layers of energy.

And yet Xatu was still flying, badly injured but not defeated. "How did you..."

Crys grinned and said nothing, but the singed Focus Sash which had fallen out of Xatu's wing after the attack revealed exactly what had happened.

Blue smiled. It looked to be enough. "Good game. Porygon2, finish the match with Ice Beam!" Again, the pink mechanical duck of cylinders emerged. Again, it opened its mouth, but the earlier thunder wave had slowed its circuits, like a once-fast computer slowed to a crawl by a virus.

Crys agreed. "Good game. Xatu, let's win this with a Psychic!" Before Porygon2 could move, Xatu's eyes glowed a bright red as it hacked into the cybernetic pokemon's systems and activated a command to take damage.

It did not faint. It could not attack. It opened its mouth, summoned up ice into its beak, and then suddenly stopped as its system rebooted. The next series of waves came before Crys said a word, and this time, Porygon2 shut down.

"Porygon2 is unable to battle! The winner of this match is Crystal of New Bark Town!" the judge announced, although apart from a few fans who had seen the frequent switches but were not seated at a good angle towards any scoreboard, and had consequently lost track of the score, everyone already knew. Blue lowered his head as Crystal walked around the arena, through the stands to greet him as fans cheered in adulation.

"If it makes you feel better, Blue, I was extremely lucky to win that match."

"Paralysis saved you twice, and if Ice Beam had made better contact..." Blue noted, recalling many matches gone by. "But if the trainer who should win won every match, Red would never have beaten me. That's just how the battle goes."

Crys sighed. Her clumsy attempt at reassurance had failed, and Blue seemed as dejected as ever, turning from his trainer's box and leaving in what seemed like a very short walk of shame. As he reached the exit, he turned around, making one final request to Crys before leaving for Viridian City.

"Hey. If you happen to play him, beat Red for me, will you? He's a good friend, but someone has to wipe that smirk off his face. He hasn't lost a match in years."

Crys nodded. "I don't know if I can, but I'll do my best!" And with a thumbs up to her vanquished opponent, she smiled and made her way to the exit as well.


	8. Match 8!  Winona vs Alder!

There was no selection ceremony this time. There was no guesswork as to who would play who – just two skilled and prepared opponents ready to square off.

Winona of Fortree City stepped into her trainer's box, and Alder of Unova, a wanderer who could not call any particular town in his region home, likewise stepped into his own. They faced each other across a plain field, much to the dismay of the crowd, but "normal" was part of the rotation. Winona had been hoping for something which gave her flying pokemon an advantage, like the previous two would have, but she would not be so lucky. Alder, conversely, was quite pleased with the lack of terrain.

It was true that Alder had three bugs and only one pokemon strong against flying. But each trainer chose who among their six they would use, and Alder, facing a flying specialist, wasn't stupid. "Vanilluxe, go!" Shaped like a popular snack known around the world, even in lands far from Unova, the three-headed ice-type's very existence seemed to many like a cruel cosmic joke: Arceus would have been booed for creating it were he visible in the stadium. Yet a diehard few thought it more adorable than conventional favorites such as Eevee or Pikachu, and experienced trainers had learned the hard way not to discount its power.

"Skarmory, you can win this." Winona may have loved her Altaria, but it was too obvious that Alder would lead with Vanilluxe: Unovans had a reputation for leading with their strongest pokemon and Alder was no exception. An armored bird with knives for feathers emerged from her poke ball, as intimidating in appearance (at least to humans; pokemon were generally unfazed) as its foe was underwhelming. "Start this with a Steel Wing!"

"Vanilluxe, Sheer Cold!"

While the Skarmory sped towards it, so low to the ground that the tall grass was mowed by its feathers, Vanilluxe attempted to use Articuno's signature move: a technique which froze the air around a pokemon to such a cold temperature that the opponent fainted instantly. Unfortunately for Alder, Skarmory were a species of pokemon so Sturdy that they could not be taken down in a single hit and were completely unaffected by any techniques designed to do exactly that. The silver bird flew through the frozen cloud and sliced through Vanilluxe with its metal wing, momentarily altering the Vanilluxe's very shape as it cut off large chunks of ice, but Alder's pokemon soon regained its form; pokemon made of ice would swiftly come to resemble badly wounded snowflakes more than their normal forms if they lacked this ability.

"Vanilluxe, Ice Beam!" Alder shouted, and a narrow beam of ice which resembled a laser more than water struck the Skarmory's dark gray tail. The steel bird continued to fly, but its patterns had become slightly erratic, for it had lost something in its balance.

Winona was unperturbed by the previous attack; Skarmory didn't look too banged up and its steel typing meant it wasn't weak to ice. She resolved to herself that if the terrain did not begin the match in her favor, she would simply change it until it was. "Skarmory, Spikes!" Shedding feathers not like javelins but like land mines, their sharp edge face-up, Skarmory flew high over the battlefield, blanketing the ground with its feathers. Vanilluxe was lucky not to need to move around much to battle, for a physical attacker would have had to endure a great deal of pain in order to fight.

"Spikes? My pokemon need ranged attacks to hit you anyway! Did you think I'm dumb enough to bring a Conkeldurr to this match?" Alder asked, half-befuddled, half-angry.

Winona smiled. "Well, they still need somewhere to stand, don't they?" 

"And so shall Skarmory, after I'm through with it! Vanilluxe, knock it out of the sky with Hail!"

"When you said 'knock it out of the sky' I was expecting an attack which could actually do that," Winona retorted, pushing her lavender hair down, wishing her outfit hadn't contained those holes for it (cool as they looked – they resembled elf ears or feathers more than hair), and letting the painful Hail bounce off of her arms: her pokemon was doing likewise with its wings, but shrugged it off, for it was nothing compared to an Ice Beam.

Alder smiled. "And it will, just you wait. Skarmory will have to Roost eventually."

"Your master plan depends on my pokemon being skewered by its own feathers? I thought better of you. Skarmory, Steel Wing!"

Alder shook his head as Winona's pokemon dove as though it was attempting a Brave Bird and veered to the side at the last second in the hopes of smashing into Vanilluxe again with its wing, but the two pokemon collided head-on.

"It's not that the hail hurts. It's that this unusual weather, combined with the early ice beam to its tail, interferes with Skarmory's sense of direction, turning a Steel Wing into a Brave Bird," Alder explained, noticing his opponent's confused face. "Now hit it with another ice beam!"

"Aren't you neglecting one thing?" Winona asked as the ice smashed into Skarmory's neck, but failed to knock it out. "Oh, and Roost on one of the Spikes."

"What?" Alder asked as his pokemon fired another Ice Beam, but it was soon clear that the bird was healing faster than it was being injured.

"Even if you disrupt Skarmory's flight patterns, you still don't have a way to knock it out! Finish Vanilluxe with a Brave Bird!" Winona ordered, and Skarmory again plunged aggressively like a kamikaze pilot into its opponent: this time, it missed and impaled the ice cream cone on its wing. "And any trainer worth her salt can compensate for such a cheap trick. What were you thinking, anyway?"

Alder smiled: his pokemon had fainted, yet he looked ready to declare victory. "I was thinking that if I whittled down your Skarmory enough with Vanilluxe, its successor would be able to take it out. Bouffalant, Revenge!" he yelled, and a pokemon resembling a Tauros in body shape, with rings on its horns and an enormous black afro, appeared from its poke ball in mid-stride, charged across the spikes without even noticing the pain, leaped ten feet into the air and slammed into Skarmory as though it were a red flag or a hapless bullfighter. The steel bird plummeted helplessly to the ground, unconscious before it hit its own spikes.

"So this won't be as easy as I thought," Winona said. "And I don't mind one bit. Altaria, go!" Had the sky been bluer that day, Alder and his Bouffalant would have not seen the dragon pokemon at all. But the day was overcast, and Altaria's blue long neck, head, and antennae were clearly visible against the gray sky. When it flapped its wings to fly over Bouffalant's head, it was not all that difficult to tell them apart from the other clouds. But when it hovered in place, the wings could only be found in relation to the pokemon to whom they belonged.

"Bouffalant, hit it with a Head Charge!" Alder shouted, and the large bull pokemon ran around the arena, gathering sufficient momentum to leap headfirst into the air, then smashed into Altaria's cloudy center and gored the flying pokemon's wings with its horns. Moving too fast to attempt a cautious landing, it soon headbutted the ground as it fell, its horns impaled in the soil between the Spikes.

"Altaria, Dragon Dance!" Unlike Feraligatr's intimidating series of gestures, Altaria truly danced, mesmerizing both trainers (but especially its own, who seemed to follow its motions as though she had forgotten where she was) as it spun through the clouds, its wings swirling into various shapes as it sped up through the dance until it was flying fifty percent faster than it had begun, then concluded its dance, now looking good deal more intimidating than the household pet of a dragon who had entered this battle.

"Bouffalant, Stone Edge!" Still stuck in the dirt, Bouffalant dug deeper with its horns, then used them to hurl a series of jagged rocks and a couple of Skarmory's Spikes into the air; Altaria twisted and turned through the upward storm and dodged each and every one.

"Altaria, Featherdance!" Winona shouted, pointing to the sky. "Time to calm the raging Bouffalant with the power of the sky!" As the blue dragon flapped its enormous, cloudlike wings, the clouds began to fall not as rain, but as gently swaying feathers which fell onto the brown bull's horns and head, insulating any attacks it attempted with a soft cushion of down.

"Don't lose to feathers! Shake 'em off and hit it with another Head Charge!" Bouffalant attempted to do exactly that, but as it shook its enormous head, feathers combined with hair from its afro to block the pokemon's eyes, and it charged headfirst into the psychic shield surrounding the arena; it was lucky there wasn't a wall there to make it really hurt.

"Altaria, Outrage!" Winona shouted with excitement as the Altaria dove from behind its foe, clouds covering the tall grass like a fog as it slammed into Bouffalant from behind.

"Bouffalant, return!" Alder had held up his poke ball before Altaria had hit, hoping to time it so that his foe would crash into nothing, but he had missed by a second, and that second was enough to nearly knock out his pokemon and make switching a questionable idea. But it was too late to send out Bouffalant again, and at least it got rid of the feathers.

Altaria's outrage seemed to cool as Alder took his time picking his last pokemon; it had nothing to ram except the trainer, and as it flew towards its opponent, Winona's words called out to it and it snapped back into reality, lacking the usual confusion which so often accompanied a dragon's fury. Alder reached to his belt as the pokemon sped towards him, then hurled a poke ball into the air in a flash of inspiration. "It takes a knight to slay a dragon! Go, Escavalier!" A pokemon with the enormous helmet of a knight, but not much of a body whatsoever save for a helmet bottom curled like a Shelmet's back, balanced itself awkwardly on the field, facing forward and gesturing angrily to the dragon with its two lances colored in the red and white swirls of candy canes.

"Is that the kind of pokemon they have in Unova? First an ice cream cone, and now... this?" Winona said, a bit of curiosity in her voice mixed with a taunting demeanor.

"Shut up. You're from the region where scientists experiment on pokemon, come up with a weather balloon and call it Castform." Alder retorted.

"Hey! I know those guys," Winona protested, then spun around with elaborate flair. "Y'know, if you hadn't taken so long, Altaria would still be using Outrage. Now it has an alternative. Featherdance!" Again the Altaria flapped its wings, again portions of its wings drifted to earth, but this time it was not so crushing. A much smaller pokemon than Bouffalant, Escavalier carefully did a dance of its own with its lances, weaving in and out of the falling feathers. Although feathers soon covered so much of its body that it was as white as gray, the points on its lances remained untouched.

"Stop dancing! And stop choreographing your pokemon's dances, for that matter!" Alder fumed.

"You just can't appreciate a pokemon's grace as well as power. I may stink at contests, even though I dated Wallace, but at least he taught me that there's more to pokemon than attack and defense!"

Alder shook his head. "You're wrong about me. Escavalier, let's show Winona and Altaria a real Dance – the kind with Swords! Or lances, in your case," he said, and his lances detached as though they were more javelin than arm, and Escavalier juggled them until they fell back into place.

Winona smiled, clapping her hands in applause at the other pokemon's dance. "Good. You forget one thing."

"And that would be?"

"Your lances may be sharper now, but they're covered in feathers. Altaria, Cotton Cloud!" With another flap of its wings, Altaria descended from the sky, ramming it with its midsection and soaking it with more, thicker feathers with a mysterious effect which only blunted the attacks of evolved pokemon.

"This little chicken's been flying around without a care in the world long enough. Escavalier, Iron Head!" Winona had expected an attack from the lances, and pointed to aim Altaria's Featherdances that way. She was completely shocked when she witnessed Escavalier using its lances like a vaulting pole to jump thirty feet into the air in order to strike Altaria with a sharp and powerful headbutt and knock it out of the sky.

"That dance sharpened more than just my lances, you know," Alder said with a smile, while Altaria struggled to its feet.

"Hit it with another Outrage!" Winona shot back.

"Iron Head!"

An angry dragon flapped its wings and flew headfirst into an equally angry armored bug. Two pokemon collided, as had happened so many times this tournament. And neither came away from the contact conscious. It is enormously fortunate for pokemon and trainers alike that even a concussion can be fully healed by the Pokemon Center.

"Bouffalant, it's Revenge time. Let's remind Winona why we're champions!" Again, the brown buffalo emerged, this time cleaned of feathers: such was the magic of the poke ball. Again it knocked Winona's pokemon out of the sky and the battle alike, but this time Altaria was the victim.

Winona looked disheartened as she recalled her beloved Altaria, going over her remaining pokemon: at least she had a choice, but few birds came away from Bouffalant easily. She didn't want to show her trump card this match, but did she have an alternative? If she didn't last long enough to beat Alder, could the others stop Maxie and Groudon from winning the tournament and drying up the ocean for land reclamation? At least Archie had lost, but then again, one of them would inevitably eliminate the other, so it was a small comfort.

But then she remembered that she had an excellent option. "Swellow, you can win this – Protect!" A great blue bird similar in appearance to Pidgeot or Staraptor, but sleeker, covered in blue, red, and white feathers in a pattern that recalled a fighter jet, with two long, sharp tails emerged from a poke ball and promptly covered its face with its wings, repelling the Bouffalant's fury and coming away unharmed.

For the most part. To the surprise of many in the stands, it revealed a purple orb from its beak, and the scoreboard marked it as poisoned, although it didn't look all that hurt. "Bouffalant aren't poisonous" many chattered in the stands, but those who had trained or battled against Ursaring or Swellow knew precisely what that orb was – Winona had poisoned her own pokemon.

And this was the reason why: "Facade!" she ordered, and spurred by the toxins in its body, her pokemon zigged and zagged Bouffalant's way, feinted left as the two nearly collided, then turned, missing Bouffalant's thick head and managing to ram its vulnerable side. The Bouffalant toppled it to the ground as it cried out in pain, then slowly brought itself to its fear; Swellow had Guts, but the way its foe was fighting one could be forgiven for thinking Bouffalant didn't share that ability.

"Bouffalant, Head Smash!" Alder shouted, his voice finally quivering; his pokemon was badly injured and he could already taste defeat, but if he could just force a tiebreaker, then maybe his fourth could beat Winona's.

Swellow could not protect itself. It could do nothing but explode in a flash of dark blue feathers and lay helplessly on the ground as the Bouffalant rammed it headfirst – yet its opponent was also out like a light.

And then the bird struggled to its feet, then to its wings, flapping around injured as though to say to the judge that it had not yet fallen, that it could go on; at least until the poison took hold, and it could flap no more. But Bouffalant could claim no such vigor; it had been knocked out the moment its head collided with its foe's, defeated by its own attack.

"Bouffalant was rendered unable to battle before Swellow. Victory in the last match of the quarterfinals goes to Winona of Fortree City!" Hoenn's section of the crowd cheered, her fellow gym leaders roaring loudest of all.

The two trainers recalled their pokemon and crossed the field to greet one another and shake hands.

"The closest match of the tournament, huh," Alder muttered. "That's just my luck, isn't it?"

Winona shook her head. "You're a champion. Don't complain about your luck."

"A champion in Unova. If I were in Hoenn, I'd be nothing more than a gym leader," he said, dejection plain in his voice; it wasn't losing to N, but the one thing he had in common with Cynthia and Red was that he really hated losing. And he didn't lose much.

Winona nodded, elevated from her victory. "And if you were, I'd be honored to have you on board. We need a bug type gym, after all – I guess that would be the easiest for you to transition to."

Alder shook his head rapidly. "No! No, I'm a Unovan through and through. I may wander it so often they're talking about an interim champion, but that whole land is my home, from Opelucid to Nuvema, from sea to shining sea."

"Then return to Unova. And be sure to keep winning," she said with a smile. "I like being able to say I beat another region's champion! It's quite an accomplishment. I've beaten Sapphire before too, but she was my apprentice, so it's not the same."

Alder smiled back. "I won't lose. Not again. And remember that you won by a paper-thin margin: when you come visit me, I won't let you win again!" he declared, then exited the arena. He had lost, he was eliminated, but no one could describe Alder's mood as defeated.

Winona began to remark about how she had promised no such thing, but she caught herself: Unova was a lovely land, and she was friends with its own gym leader, if mostly through the internet. Maybe she could ask her to fly her there someday in her plane... it was a nice thought. Dreams filling her head, she left the arena as well, but soon snapped back to reality: she had to prepare for the quarterfinals!

After all, she could be battling tomorrow.


	9. Match 9!  Battle in the Empty City!

Eight trainers gathered this time, each of them victorious in their own first-round matches. Red and Green, both who came from Pallet Town in Kanto, that small, unpolluted hamlet which had gained the title "City of Champions." Calling it a city was an enormous stretch, but no one could dispute the skill of the trainers who grew up there. Likewise, Johto had Crystal and Silver of New Bark Town, although Silver's and for that matter Green's ties to their hometown, thanks to a certain masked man, were far more tenuous. Hoenn brought Winona and Maxie to the second round – two sides of a bitter triangle of rivalry, the third leg already defeated. Sinnoh brought Palmer as its representative, but in a way it possessed a second trainer in Arceus, a god older than Sinnoh by eons, but who could at least claim it as the center of his cult, and who often resided in its Hall of Origin when it decided to live in this world.

Unova, much to the disappointment of the few fans who had made the long journey, had no victories. Some would blame the stress of the long journey to the Indigo Plateau on trainers and their pokemon, while others would simply claim that Unova's trainers weren't up to par with those from other regions. Lacking an obvious favorite, a few went home, but most stayed to tour the area and watch the many battles of these fascinating foreign pokemon.

Today, it would be the Hoenn fans who would be hanging on their seat, for it was Winona and Maxie saw their faces appear on the board for the second round. Apart from a few Team Magma partisans, the crowd booed Maxie and cheered Winona: they knew all too well what kind of environmental destruction Magma could cause if Maxie won his wish.

The field this time was inspired by the steel type, a facsimile of a city of sidewalks, fences, bridges, and skyscrapers, much like many towns in Unova, except constructed of cheaper materials and built for the sole purpose of hassling pokemon in battle and getting blown up. Smog covered the city, emitted from the "factories" - not dense enough to block the crowd's vision all that much, but certainly dense enough to give the clashing pokemon a bit of damage in the manner of hail or sandstorm.

Not that the smog would last long. It was, after all, a type of weather.

The two trainers held their first poke balls for about a minute, not trusting the other until an angry glance from the judge forced them to summon their pokemon

"Groudon, go!" Towering at the height of a taller skyscraper, a great red ground-type Godzilla emerged above Maxie in a flash of bright sunlight which drove away the smog.

"Rayquaza, come out!" This would be no trump card to save for the end of the match. And although she had avoided using it through the first round and the preliminaries, Maxie was only mildly surprised to see it appear again, for Winona needed this pokemon to break her enemy's strategy. A great green eastern dragon with an elaborate, alien yellow pattern running down its spine, its body as long as Groudon's was tall, snaked its way through the spires which topped many of the skyscrapers, blotting out the bright sun in renewed cloud cover as it rearranged the sky with its tail.

"I see you're taking me seriously," Maxie muttered through gritted teeth, his voice filled with contempt. "It's a shame I can't give you that same honor. Your first pokemon, on the other hand, is a powerful foe."

"Go crawl back in your hideout and lick your wounds," Winona retorted. "Rayquaza, start this match off with a Waterfall!" The great dragon flew up high out of Groudon's reach, grabbed a surprisingly large cloud in each of its small hands, then ripped it apart and dove with the water which cascaded onto Groudon's head: a direct hit.

"Winona. Do you think I'm stupid?" She shook her head, a bit confused by this remark. "Did you think the only moves I taught Groudon were the ones it used last fight? Don't be so arrogant!"

"I don't follow."

"Leading Rayquaza, using Waterfall. Did you really think I hadn't prepared for that?" Maxie yelled as Groudon clutched the Rayquaza's thin neck in its enormous right hand without even needing a command. Without a spoken order its left hand mutated from a Groudon's somewhat floppy hand into something which looked less like a functioning hand than a single, enormous claw. And then it thrust Rayquaza's face across its own body and raked its eyes with a Dragon Claw.

"That was a good shot," Winona began, "but we have you right where we want you."

"With Groudon's hand on your neck? You're an interesting woman, Winona, I'll give you that much, but I think your skills as a battler need some work."

She smiled. "Ordinarily, this wouldn't do any damage, but when done at close-range in the middle of the city, it just might. Rayquaza, Dragon Dance!" The great dragon thrashed its tail, toppling a building onto the Groudon's arm, then slithered between the behemoth's fingers, knocking over chunks of concrete and in some cases whole buildings onto the helpless beast as it escaped, twirled, and grew faster and stronger.

It was only a couple years ago since they had done the same thing in Sootopolis city. Only that time Kyogre was there, and the buildings had people in them. Winona for one was pleased that this time, the people were in the stands, safely protected by some of the strongest psychic pokemon in the world and cheering her every move.

Maxie was less pleased – indeed, he was tempted to shatter the entire arena with an earthquake, even though it wouldn't actually affect Rayquaza at all. The shield would have absorbed such an attack, but he was more than willing to try. Fortunately for all involved, he had ordered his pokemon to forget that technique, for it had no effect against flying pokemon, and Winona would train nothing else.

The skyscrapers were one thing – they were like large rocks. The only one which caused Groudon any trouble did so by trapping its foot, and the great god of the land soon stomped on it with its other foot and smashed it to tiny pieces. But the waterfall had really hurt, and whatever Rayquaza tried next would hurt even more.

Maxie knew all of this was coming. He just didn't know what to do about it, other than hope to damage Rayquaza enough for another pokemon to finish the job. "Dragon Claw!" he shouted, and this time the Groudon charged with both hands as claws, but Rayquaza flew upwards and it could only rake the peace god's tail.

"That was a nice start. Now finish Groudon off with another Waterfall!" Winona shouted; she wanted, no, needed victory. This time, Rayquaza flew twice as high, using its mouth and hands alike to gather clouds. The sun was fully exposed by the attack, but neither Rayquaza nor Winona cared, for a waterfall the size of Niagara Falls soon crashed down on Groudon and washed away a couple city blocks.

Groudon washed up unconscious on the other side of the arena, toppling buildings as a wave of water rushed towards Winona, but petered out before it reached her.

"Groudon, return!" Maxie said, recalling his pokemon as he pondered his next move. Birds he could handle, but dragons were trouble, especially when they could fly. He'd need a strategy. He didn't have one.

What he did have was a crapshoot which left him only one pokemon with which to actually take advantage of the sun – that is, if the match outlasted Rayquaza, who had casually rearranged the clouds to blot it out again while he was thinking of an attack. "Crobat, Confuse Ray!" A large pink bat emerged, with all four of the limbs its mammalian predecessors posessed replaced by wings, its small but very much extant eyes glowing in an eerie, confusing array of colors.

"Not so fast! Rayquaza, Outrage!" In a flash of green, surrounded in the red and blue of a Salamence, or perhaps of its conquered beastly foes, Rayquaza fell out of the sky and rammed into Crobat. The attack sent the bat flying through multiple buildings until it came to rest, badly injured but still moving. And maybe that would be enough, for Rayquaza did not get the chance to finish its attack before becoming confused.

And few things were more dangerous than a rampaging, confused Rayquaza. Before Winona moved, the beast flew high into the sky, prompting a couple of Alakazam to Teleport to the top of the stadium; one wondered how high the shield could extend, for Rayquaza, after all, was at home as far up as the ozone layer.

Luckily for humanity, although to the mild chagrin of Winona, it then turned around 180 degrees and slammed the ground headfirst as it screamed in pain.

"Now finish it off, Crobat! Hit it with a Brave Bird!" The idea of a Crobat finishing off a Rayquaza seemed absurd given the differences in size between the two: Crobat was weaving through buildings in the half of the arena where Rayquaza had not simply knocked them over, and these buildings were major obstacles. Indeed, given the courage with which it flew, calling the attack brave seemed an enormous understatement.

In an attack which later theorists would use to argue for a "hit points" theory of pokemon health, Crobat rammed Rayquaza's side in what had to feel like a pinprick, but was nonetheless enough to knock out the dragon, who knocked over three more buildings when it fell. David had beaten Goliath, or at least finished him off after another Goliath did most of the work.

Yet for all Maxie's swagger, Winona was undisturbed by this development: she had half-expected it and certainly did not believe it heralded defeat. After all, Crobat had taken damage, and her next pokemon would be fresh, ready to battle, and in possession of a type advantage.

"Skarmory, go!" A dragon was recalled and then replaced by a bird whose wings resembled an arsenal, coated in armor, with the toothed mouth and facial structure of an Archeops. It didn't fly as energetically as Crobat, preferring to hover in midair and use its wings as weapons, but it was no mere glider. And more to the point, it was completely immune to Crobat's poison, and Brave Bird just bounced off its armor. Yet Maxie could not have been less worried by its summoning.

"Winona. Why do you think I led with Groudon?"

Realization dawned on her as it became apparent she had made an enormous mistake. She could call it back, but it didn't matter: it was one of her three pokemon, and Maxie's third probably burnt far, far hotter than Crobat.

"Heat Wave!" Crobat flapped its wings furiously, flying closer to the sun and redirecting the fate of Icarus towards the metal pokemon. Yet by the time the attack was declared, it already seemed like Skarmory's trainer had surrendered that phase of the battle, if not the match outright. The same could not be said of Skarmory, who weaved from one ledge to another to get away from Crobat's heat, but to little avail in this city of sunlight; it would have needed to dive through an air-conditioned window and somehow board it up again, and the builders of this false city had not gone into quite so much detail to let it do so even if the iron bird tried.

And yet Skarmory was still flying. "Don't give up, Winona!" the crowd cheered, encouraging her much as she had encouraged her pokemon so many times before. And the gym leader stood at attention, tossing her hair with a dramatic flair as she pointed skyward and shouted a command for Skarmory's next attack: "Steel Wing!"

In a chase scene more reminiscent of flight simulators than pokemon battles, Crobat darted from and through the windows of building to building, with Skarmory, its wings outstretched, in hot pursuit. The need to use an attack dependent on its wing, however painful it would be if it hit, dramatically reduced the steel pokemon's maneuverability, and Crobat's small size made it more able to hide in buildings, while Skarmory was often forced to crash through walls.

"Hit it with another Heat Wave!" Maxie ordered, and the chase came to a stop as the furious flapping of Crobat's wings again channeled sunlight to set its opponent alight. Again, Crobat flew into a small room, and this time Skarmory smashed into another wall, but did not get back up. It had overheated from both the opponent's attacks and the exertion of a high-speed chase, and it could battle no more.

Winona wiped sweat from her forehead with one hand as she used the other to hold up Skarmory's poke ball and recall it, although it took a few shots before she could manage to angle the light properly. She had been so close to victory, but was now actually trailing, and given Maxie's ambitions and skill, that fact scared the heck out of her. It was tempting to use Pelipper in this situation: she had taught it Rain Dance to prepare for the match, after all. But it was if anything a less nimble flier than Skarmory, and although it might withstand the heat of Maxie's third pokemon, she struggled to see how it could get to Crobat to begin with. Which left one viable option. "You've brought me this far. It's do or die, not just for us, but for Hoenn. Altaria, go!"

In a tournament with such powerful trainers as Red, Palmer, and Arceus remaining, perhaps it was not truly a do-or-die situation for Hoenn, but few would berate Winona for encouraging the gentle blue dragon wrapped in clouds which she had summoned in this manner.

And speaking of clouds, Altaria's wings had begun to break apart as it flew high in the sky, covering the sunlight for the rest of the match. If Maxie wanted to win this, he wouldn't be able to do it by relying on the weather.

"What the..." 

"A little trick it learned from Rayquaza in a wonderful dream," Winona said with a sly yet nostalgic smile. "And it's not the only new trick Altaria learned. There's nowhere for your bat to hide from a Draco Meteor!" Although probably the slower of the two pokemon, Altaria was able to strike first: Maxie had allowed Crobat to continue hiding, hoping it would be impervious to any attacks and able to strike down its foe from the shadows.

Maxie had not counted on the thought that Winona would blow up the whole city, even given that it was an empty one designed for a pokemon battle.

Like all the Aerodactyl of old it bore a striking resemblance to, Crobat and what remained of the city were incinerated in a fireball falling from the sky. Admittedly, it was not nearly as strong of one, but the only consolation that fact offered Maxie was that his Crobat was just barely clinging to life, albeit clearly defeated. (And, of course, the continued survival of land-based life in the pokemon world bigger than small rodents.)

"Wow. Winona, I didn't think you had it in you. I have to admit that was a good one. Lucky the city was empty: you won't be so fortunate next time."

The graceful flying-type specialist shook her head. "Even if the city was full of people, if I was losing to the likes of you, I would not hesitate. Better to lose a city than the world."

Maxie was taken aback and began to wonder if, were he to lose, whether he'd make it out of Indigo Plateau alive. Then again, Archie had too, although under heavy surveillance: he had more than Winona to worry about.

He also had a match to win. And one pokemon left – but which one? Although he knew what he was facing, he lacked the ice, dragon, or rock-type pokemon which matched up well against Altaria.

He did have a pokemon with a pretty good rock-type attack. "Camerupt, come out and use Stone Edge!" A fairly large camel with two volcanoes for humps and three rings of blue on each of its sides emerged from Maxie's third poke ball and erupted, spewing molten, jagged rock into the air at Altaria and knocking it out of the sky.

"Maxie, what's my Altaria's moveset?" Winona asked.

"Dragon Dance and Feather Dance are on there for sure – you think you're a contest trainer so you always teach your pokemon to dance. You switched to Draco Meteor for this match, probably taking off Outrage. Which would leave Cotton Cloud, unless you swapped it for Roost."

"Bzzt. Wrong." Winona said, sticking out her tongue in a taunting gesture which cracked the facade of maturity she so often projected. "I swapped that out, but not for Roost. Altaria, let's finish this match: Earthquake!"

A brown gem dropped from Altaria's wing as the ground cracked and the rubble shattered from the surprisingly strong force of an Altaria's jump: it couldn't just stomp the ground like most pokemon which learned Earthquake, for its legs lacked sufficient thickness. But jumping was enough, for Camerupt was toppled by the shaking, and its short, stubby legs did not allow it to get back up, even though it was far from unconscious.

"Camerupt is unable to battle!"

Maxie protested. "No it's not! Its eyes are still open, judge – Camerupt, eruption!" But the fact that Altaria was nowhere near the cloud of smoke which billowed into Maxie's own mouth only proved the official's point.

"It's unable to win, and you can't switch pokemon anymore to get it back on its feet. Do you want to keep fighting, or do you want to save your pokemon the trouble?"

Winona smiled, holding back laughter at the conversation. "Altaria, Earthquake!" Again the ground shook, and this time Camerupt was not only made prone: it had quite clearly fainted. "Okay, now Camerupt is certainly unable to battle. Judge, declare me victor!"

"Victory in this quarterfinal match goes to Winona of Fortree City!" With an enormous grin on her face, the flying-type trainer climbed onto her Altaria to do an aerial victory lap around the stadium's upper deck, then flew back to her hotel. There would be no post-battle handshake, and Maxie understood, for he detested pleasantries with those who were not friends or rivals, but genuine enemies.

He would only have used the opportunity to break Winona's hand anyway.


	10. Match 10!  Battle in the Forest!

As far as anyone could tell, the world was saved, but most trainers still kept tight-lipped about their wishes, so no one could truly be sure. After all, if mythology is any guide, rarely does one who is already the very best make a wish without any destructive consequences for others. The most paranoid in the crowd had joined the more religious fans in hoping Arceus would be the victor in this tournament, if for no other reason than the fact that the creator of all things had already made their own wishes come true.

Yet there were others among the fans, and indeed among the organizers as well (and of course among the contestants) who were hoping Arceus would lose, who had opposed its being allowed into the tournament in the first place, for what was the point of a world championship if all it proved was that God was greater than Man and that striving for greatness was ultimately futile?

Both of these groups would find their passions riding high on this match, for of the six trainers yet to battle this round, Arceus was the first one chosen on the scoreboard, represented not by the face of its human guise, but by the sprite used to represent it in so many video games and religious services.

It would not, however, be a talkative battle, for few knew what to make of his opponent, Red of Pallet Town. This was not because he was mute (which meant less than it once did in this digital age,) but because he had retired to a cave after winning to live the life of a hermit on Mount Silver. Cheers and boos alike for him had only come sporadically in his first match, and were based more often than not on whether one liked the pokemon he used, as opposed to what one thought of their trainer.

The field for this match was a thick forest which recalled the Viridian or Ilex forests, with plenty of plant life growing underneath a thick canopy of trees. It could not claim either Viridian Forest's biodiversity or its bugs, but it was enough to power up the attacks of grass-type pokemon and provided countless hazards and concealment for trainers to use to their advantage.

Red's eyes stared at his foe with a rarely-seen fury as he called his first pokemon to the field: a purple and white cat with many exposed veins, the unholy offspring of a human being (in this case, Blaine of Cinnabar Island) and Mew, its DNA endlessly tweaked to give it extra power. Mewtwo did not share Red's ferocious stare; instead, it averted its eyes from the other trainer.

"Mewtwo, why will you not face your creator?" Arceus asked, genuinely puzzled.

"Because you are not my creator. I am an abomination," Mewtwo answered. "And my presence here is sacrilege, but for Red's sake..."

The God of All Types sighed. "If you insist. Giratina, go!" The snakelike, floating beast which had faced Cyrus was in a different, less ancient form – a model which recalled the shapes of Dialga and Palkia, with spiked wings instead of tentacles and six silver tree trunks for legs.

Before Arceus could call out an attack, Red held up a hand signal, and a path through the forest towards Giratina was burnt away in a wave of blue energy which barely managed to hurt the undead dragon.

"Psyburn. It certainly does look like an impressive attack, Red. But it's not impressive enough to conquer a legend. Giratina, Shadow Force!"

The great dragon disappeared, although all of it Red had seen from his position in the first place was a large mass of gray between an enormous number of trees. And yet Red smiled.

"Red wishes you to know that he had a reason for having me use Psyburn," Mewtwo noted, following Giratina's shadow along the burnt-out forest path, and then bowling a black ball along the ground, striking and revealing its foe. "Also, Giratina should be more careful with its Shadow Force."

The gray dragon disappeared again the moment after the attack hit. The Shadow Ball did not prevent it from soon materializing beneath Mewtwo, disrupting the psychic's concentration and screaming out in a very human response of pain: it did not roar or squeak like an ordinary pokemon.

And Mewtwo had a response already set without even a sign or thought from Red, although the Champion was not complaining. As it was flung into the air, it continued its war of shadows with Giratina, summoning another black vortex which sucked in trees as it struck the God of Terror, striking it with an attack as much grass as ghost.

Unfortunately for Red and Mewtwo, Giratina resisted grass attacks, so the extra trees uprooted and smashed into the dragon hurt a lot less than they would have an ordinary pokemon. Mewtwo continued to float upwards, this time on Red's thought command. It rose above the trees to the delight of the fans, daring Giratina to fly up upon its black wings and make this an aerial (and far more visible) match.

"Giratina, show Red what happens to pokemon who prefer aerial combat. Thunderbolt," Arceus calmly ordered, and Giratina let out a loud roar which pinged Mewtwo's eardrums and shook its body from the force of its sound. "Every pokemon has its own interpretation," Arceus added with a smile. "It's not called 'lightning bolt' after all."

Red barely moved, unwilling to lose his focus with a smile: it was bad enough for his chances that Mewtwo, who needed concentration as much as its trainer did, was starting to become genuinely amused. "Keep your focus," he thought desperately to Mewtwo, trying to think which attack would work best: Shadow Ball hadn't done all that much, despite being allegedly super effective. At least he had come prepared; there wasn't much question Mewtwo would face Giratina to start the match. "We practiced this for a reason. Blizzard," he thought to his pokemon, and Mewtwo twirled its tail, creating a whirlwind of ice and sending it flying Giratina's way.

Blizzard is an unreliable attack, but this unreliability has more to do with the difficulty aiming it. If the wind actually carries it to the foe, as it did this time, there was nowhere for any pokemon to run. Especially if the target was a big, slow beast like the dragon it called its foe.

Giratina had not only been badly injured by the attack: it was encased in a block of ice. It did not respond to Arceus' call of "Rest!" - at least, not with the kind of rest which healed an injured pokemon, although it wasn't exactly exerting itself within the ice. (Except, perhaps, by trying to break out.)

The ice was soon shattered by another Shadow Ball from Mewtwo, for the vortex clanged off enormous chunks one by one to reveal an unconscious Giratina.

"Return," Arceus said, holding up a poke ball to recall his first pokemon: there was no question as to who would replace it. Dialga didn't need to freeze time to disrupt and resist psychic pokemon, although it certainly helped to be encased in armor. The steel blue beast, as much like a Girafarig and a mech in appearance as what one conventionally considered a dragon, roared as it emerged from the poke ball. It was not the sort of roar which shattered the space-time continuum, nor one which forced a pokemon back to its poke ball, but the sound alone was terrifying enough.

"Mewtwo, Focus Blast." Red thought, It had been a baseball player and a bowler in this match with Shadow Ball alone, but the sphere of raw energy it generated was too large for Mewtwo to give it anything but a two-handed basketball shot Dialga's way.

"Time Rewind," Arceus answered, and Dialga's whole body flashed as Mewtwo and the ball froze, then came flying back Mewtwo's way, but the energy was harmlessly reabsorbed into Mewtwo's body; it was, after all, its own ki.

"Huh... not sure why Dialga did that against this of all attacks. But how can that move be legal – it seems completely unbeatable. Mewtwo, try another Focus Blast."

This time, Arceus was silent.

This time, Dialga was frozen in time.

This time, Mewtwo's aim was horribly off and the blast flew harmlessly over Dialga's head into the psychic shield covering the arena.

"Mewtwo, try a bounce pass," Red thought: Focus Blast was a notoriously hard attack to control, and even Mewtwo was struggling; it became clear his prior attack had been rewound precisely because it would have been a direct hit.

"Earthquake," Arceus said, and Dialga reared up on its hind legs, then slammed them into the ground: Mewtwo tried to float away, but if the earthquake didn't knock it out, the falling trees certainly did.

It was a whole new match. Except that Red had lost his only legend, and Arceus had brought nothing but legends to begin with. He needed to throw up a roadblock, lest Dialga sweep his remaining pokemon.

And he had just what he needed. With an underhand toss, Red launched his poke ball high into the air, releasing a Snorlax above the clouds, facing him as he sent it a signal. The great blue and off-white stuffed animal of a pokemon plummeted towards Dialga in what looked like the mother of all Body Slams. Spooked out by the prospect of such a landing and goaded on by its trainer's cry of "Run!" Dialga galloped through the forest to the other end of the arena, leaving the Snorlax to pancake a few trees and send a tremendous Earthquake Dialga's way.

Arceus was as surprised as Dialga by the attack: even the Gods were subject to fate, and he thanked fate that the dragon of time was not defeated in a single strike. Perhaps ultimately it would be better for even Arceus to be defeated, but in the heat of battle, they were every bit the hotblooded competitor as Red. "Roar of Time!"

Red said nothing, nor did he send any signal to his pokemon as a time-shifting sound filled the air. Snorlax did seem wounded by the attack – or perhaps what truly hurt it was its own fall – for it was in obvious pain, and in the absence of a signal had not relied on instinct, but began chowing down on trees like a Donphan or an oversized Munchlax. Unable to shout, Red could not figure out how to regain his pokemon's attention as Dialga rested, again exhausted by its own attack; he was tempted to throw a rock like he was in the Safari Zone, but he doubted the judge would look kindly on such a move.

Ironically, it was Arceus' booming call of "Brick Break" that made Snorlax turn around and face his trainer, who had furiously been throwing up the sign for "Earthquake." Snorlax stomped the ground, which started to shatter. Dialga jumped to dodge and was pounded again by falling trees. Attack by attack, the forest began to break. And then Dialga's knees extended and rammed through Snorlax's fat to the body underneath with a force which could shatter walls.

Yet when it landed, it did so on still-rumbling ground: Snorlax had taken care to land in a way which would make the earthquake hurt as much as possible, even if it would be at the center of its own attack. While Dialga recuperated, Snorlax, its head tilted back to receive a signal, obediently closed its eyes, rejuvenating itself with a Rest.

"Sleeping in the middle of the match," Arceus remarked. "That's Snorlax for you."

Red wanted to retort something about the nobility of his pokemon or Dialga recharging half the match anyway, but was of course unable to do so; he doubted even Arceus knew the obscure sign language he had invented in Pallet Town to communicate with family and the neighborhood children he now called best friends and rivals.

Instead, he let his sleeping Snorlax do the talking. There was no signal he had for Sleep Talk, for his pokemon would not have seen it anyway: it was up to the brains of his Snorlax, who battled so strangely it might as well have been random chance.

He was hoping for another Earthquake.

Dialga charged to another call of "Brick Break" from Arceus, running low to the ground so that the armor on its chest would break through Snorlax's blubber. With a loud snore, the sleeping pokemon cloaked itself in a teal light, then Selfdestructed like a Voltorb, although it didn't look any different when fainted than when simply asleep. Dialga, caught at ground zero of the blast, was flung high and outwards into the psychic shield above the ruined forest; in an ordinary match, the distance the attack flung Dialga would have made it a ring-out, but the shield prevented this. Yet its cracked armor and failure to get back up once it fell meant the result was the same: Dialga was unable to battle.

Each trainer had one pokemon left. It wasn't actually overtime, for it was their third and not their fourth pokemon, but it certainly had the same feel. Two trainers held their poke balls aloft, and on Arceus' count of three (for neither was willing to move first, even though they both thought they knew what they were up against) opened their poke balls.

Out of Arceus' poke ball, after a cry of "Palkia, go!" came a silver and purple dragon with a pearl in its shoulder, its design intended to recall a pearl itself given dragon form, with small white, almost angelic wings, and a neck and head many have taken as a representation of male fertility.

Red had hoped for Snorlax to save its Selfdestruct for Palkia, allowing him to win the match without resorting to a third pokemon, because no one matched up especially well against Palkia, who did only have the one weakness. But in a battle like this, there was only one choice; losing was one thing, but losing without even using Pikachu would always leave him wondering "what if".

So a small, chubby yellow rodent with red cheeks and a lightning bolt tail appeared on the ground from Red's poke ball, sitting in what was once strongly resembled its natural habitat, but which had been washed away by some the strongest pokemon who had ever lived and was now merely a mess of dirt and toppled trees.

"Rain Dance!" Arceus yelled. Red had to count himself as confused by the command: his Pikachu certainly had a reputation for power far beyond what other Pikachu could accomplish, but did Arceus really believe it would take a rain dance for Palkia's attacks to wash such a tiny pokemon away?

But if Red was given an opening, he wasn't one to pass it up: it was only seconds before rain started drenching the field that he gave Pikachu the sign for "Thunder." An enormous cloud made entirely of electricity arced from Pikachu's cheeks to Palkia's stomach, well out of the way of the falling water which was already up past Pikachu's feet.

Red had expected the next word out of Arceus' mouth to be "Surf" given the rain pouring onto the field. What he had not expected was a cry of "Spacial Rend" followed by the creation of a large, sickle-shaped void hurtling Pikachu's way, but slightly above the rodent's head and harmlessly creating a hole a few feet in the air above the back corner of the arena: it would have sucked in the fans if not for the psychic shield.

Red was for a moment still suspicious, wondering if that attack could properly be called a miss: he had seen Palkia's strategy in its last fight and begun to suspect spacial rend was of more use as a hazard than a direct assault.

And then he realized what Arceus was doing.

Palkia's attack had missed not to set up a hazard, but because it was being very careful to make sure that if it missed, it missed high.

Palkia had not used Rain Dance to power up Surf: in fact, using Surf would defeat the purpose. It had used Rain Dance to change the field and leave Pikachu as vulnerable as Palkia to its own electric attacks.

Arceus had staked the battle on a strategy dependent on no logs drifting by of the right size for Pikachu to climb on to in a forest which had been washed away by water. And worse, it was working.

Red could signal a Surf. But Palkia was virtually immune to water, and as long as rain poured down upon the field, the water would just replenish itself. Which left one stupid, crazy option.

Again, Red put up the sign for Thunder. Again, Pikachu's cheeks sparked, although this time the rising water level meant the cheeks were level with the water, Pikachu was swimming, and even Palkia was up to its legs in water. A targeted Thunder wouldn't do the trick.

Pikachu hesitated, turning around to Red for confirmation. Arceus was too shocked by the sign to command a thing. Red pointed down to the water.

And Pikachu flooded the growing pool of an arena with enough electricity to take down out a nearly full-health Palkia – and itself as well, were it not holding a Focus Sash in its mouth. The sash crumbled to the ground and an injured Pikachu swam victoriously into Red's trainer's box as its opponent floated face-down in the water.

For ten seconds, the judge was too shocked to move. And then he spoke. "Palkia is unable to battle. Arceus has been toppled. Victory in this match goes to Red of Pallet Town!"

Although the bitterness was one-sided, there would be no handshake. The field rotated to normal and the flood drained out, but only Arceus ventured out of the trainer's box.

"I'm sorry. Even I make mistakes." He whispered, remorseful as he walked past Red on the way by. "That's why you entered, isn't it?"

Red nodded, tears streaming from his face.

"We'll talk about this later. Meet me in the Hall of Origins after the tournament." There was no mistaking Arceus' emphasis on the word talk. Arceus was not the God it was often imagined as: it could not see the future, and was basing this judgment on nothing more than research and observation.

But it was clear that Arceus itself believed Red would win the tournament, and that alone was enough to replace an angry glare with an enormous smile – maybe he really would speak at last. He only needed two more wins to do it, after all.


	11. Match 11!  Battle in the Fierce Weather!

While bitter animosity had marked the first two matches of the quarterfinals, the same could not possibly hold true for the others. Palmer, long isolated in his tower, elicited few strong emotions from anyone: his match with Karen was an anomaly which had started out so bitter only because she saw him and the Battle Tower as representing a reckless search for competitive power which snuffed out the spirit of pokemon battles. But she had come to see the error of her ways, and the three pokedex holders before him did not see him in that negative light.

Green and Crys alike hoped not to battle Silver: not because they feared his power, in a tournament like this, there were no easy matches, but because they each considered him a friend and did not want to be in a position to either eliminate him or lose trying.

Green would get her wish this round, although she had cause to wonder if facing Palmer was better. Crys and Silver would have their battle, but it was not announced through their faces appearing on the scoreboard, but by the process of elimination: they returned to the seats to watch, for their match would be tomorrow.

The battlefield this time was based around the theme of weather; not a specific type of weather, but every one of them at once. With a bright sun shining down on the field, an unseasonable hail battered pokemon against the equally dangerous swirling sands. And rain pounded onto the ground, not the normal rain of an ordinary match, but a harshly corrosive acid rain, more poison than water.

No pokemon could stay out in these conditions long. At least, no ordinary pokemon could. But neither Green nor Palmer trained ordinary pokemon, and both were skilled trainers capable of using even harsh terrain to their advantage.

"If only I had taught it how to turn into Mamoswine," Green muttered, releasing a pink blob which blended into the wet sand covering the ground. "Ditto, go!"

"Not trying the Mew trick again, huh?"

"A good trickster never repeats her schemes. Especially when her opponent's seen them before," Green said with a wink.

Palmer smiled. "I wonder if you'll just turn into your opponent, or if you have something else in mind. You know, I never see Ditto in my tower... and I think there's a reason for that. No fake Heatran is going to beat the real thing," he said, opening his pokeball. Something between a Camerupt and a Torterra in appearance, a walking volcano covered in armor emerged, standing firm against the sand and sunlight, shrugging off the hail and even the acid; it was the rain, of all things, which seemed to bother it. As the saying goes, everyone except Sableye and Spiritomb has their weaknesses, and water was one of Heatran's.

"Ditto, Transform!" 

"Heatran, before it gets the chance, Magma Storm!" Palmer shouted, wondering whether the intensity of his attack would grow from the sun or be squelched by the rain – it was time to find out! The goo which composed Ditto began to twist and turn into the shape of another turtle, but this one was blue to Heatran's red and silver and rose tall on its hind legs, with enormous cannons facing forward out of the shell on its back. Blastoise was a pokemon at home in the water, and it shrugged off the Magma Storm to little effect, its change of form allowing it to escape the magma's trap; it seemed more concerned by the bright, piercing sunlight and swirling sand.

"You waited," Palmer accused, "not just to see what I'd send out, but even to check what attack I'd use so you could turn into whatever resisted it."

"Exactly," Green answered with a smile. "It cost me the first move of the match, but I think it was worth it. Dittostoise, Hydro Cannon!" The transformation was perfect, so the term "dittostoise" seemed less than apt; this was no case of Ditto-face, but Green still wanted to distinguish it from the real thing. The cannons on Blastoise's back swelled up with water, then shot out in enormous twin jets towards the Heatran, pushing their own user back a few feet from the force of the attack and sending Heatran crashing into the base of Palmer's trainer's box.

Unfortunately for Green, the shape of a trainer's box made it the ideal place for a pokemon to seek shelter from this storm. "Quick, Dittostoise! Withdraw before the weather beats you!"

Palmer laughed. "Hiding in your shell from the storm? Time to see if your Ditto can hide from this! Solarbeam!" Ordinarily, Solarbeam focused the sun's rays with such intensity that only the trickiest pokemon could avoid it, and in direct sunlight especially it struck too fast to be dodged.

But Palmer had made a mistake. A mistake based on his years battling on the top floor of a tower, indoors and impervious to the terrain difficulties which hampered so many real trainers.

And it was a tremendous mistake he was lucky to survive.

Heatran, fearful to venture out into the mother of all storms, had not moved the volcano on its back out into the battlefield. The legendary pokemon did not look before it shot, but instead fired a Solarbeam in its usual upward arc shape, only to find the attack's path blocked by the box where its own trainer stood. Palmer retreated to the back of his box and took one step towards a six-foot fall into wet sand, then regained his footing as he watched the front half of the elevated platform get swiftly incinerated, and with it Heatran's protection from the elements.

Green was never one to hold her laughter to begin with, but she would not have been able to even if she tried. "Dittostoise," she began, trying to speak through her laughter, "give it another Hydro Cannon."

Heatran was if anything an even easier target than before, but the swirling sand and hail was enough to distort any pokemon's attack, and the water poured harmlessly into an empty patch of sand.

"You were saying?" Palmer asked: to him, pokemon battles were a matter of the utmost seriousness, and there was something about this carefree opponent that was really irking him. "Now that my box is out of the way, Heatran, there's no obstacle to a successful Solarbeam!"

Again, the sun's light poured into the volcano. Again, the volcano, like a magnifying glass, reflected it upwards in an arc – but this time, rather than nearly killing its own trainer, it shot like a catapult towards the enemy Blastoise, cracking its shell with its force.

It would be the last attack Heatran would manage this battle. The hail and acid rain had become too much for it. Perhaps it had been running on pure fighting spirit even when it had launched that attack. Palmer looked somber as he recalled it and a bit of fear crept into his stern visage; he was losing on a battlefield he had not prepared for, and to a Ditto at that! Could he actually lose this match? Was this how his championship dream would end?

Not if the wisdom of the ancients had anything to say about it. He didn't know much about the builders of Regigigas and its counterparts, save for the common speculation that these giant artificial pokemon were their eyes in more ways than one. He just hoped these machines could function in all weather conditions. "Regigigas, go!" he yelled, and an enormous pokemon - something like a Christmas tree cross-bred with a fat steampunk mech – emerged from his poke ball and promptly sunk into the sand.

Well, that part wasn't working. Maybe he'd have been better off with Golurk – good old Unovan engineering at least taught their mechs how to fly, and they didn't take as long to charge up either. But it was too late to withdraw his choice, so he'd just have to crack that turtle's shell, one way or another. "Gigaton Punch!"

Regigigas' jets weren't strong enough to lift it into the air, but it skidded across the bizarre terrain with a terrifying speed all the same, its legs covered with snow and sand. The giant then raised its fist as Blastoise withdrew into its shell – not a true Withdraw, just the natural way for one of those pokemon to protect itself. But the recoiling away was not fast enough, and its face met one ancient, leafy, and enormously heavy fist.

"Hydro Cannon!" Green commanded, and water welled up inside the cannons to prepare for a point-blank shot.

"Plug the cannons with your fists!" Palmer shouted; an unorthodox tactic, to be sure, but this tournament was giving him the hang of unorthodox tactics. And it worked perfectly: Regigigas' hands were soon soaked, but Blastoise's cannons expanded and expanded without making any headway, until they looked like they were about to detonate in a mess of water and falling steel.

"Stop!" Green ordered Blastoise, and the attack ceased – but perhaps not because of her orders, for Blastoise, either from the punches or the harsh weather, soon fell over onto its shell and closed its eyes.

"Blastoise – I mean, Ditto is unable to battle!" The judge announced as the transformation began to reverse itself.

Green recalled her pokemon, wondering who to use next: she regretted leaving the real Blastoise off her tournament team this time around, although she feared that Regigigas would plug its cannons just as easily as it had Ditto's. Mew, for all its ingenuity, looked so tiny against the giant mech. And really, Green only had one pokemon which was both big enough and could match up against a pokemon who commanded golems of ice, rock and steel.

"Wigglytuff, go! And inflate yourself to Regigigigas' size!" Green found herself tripping over the name of her opponent's pokemon, then watched as her pink balloon with a trace of rabbit blood took in air, sand, hail, and acid rain, absorbing them and letting them mix with its predominately helium interior to allow it to expand to an enormous size, even taller (albeit less wide) than its legendary foe.

"Regigigas, pop that balloon with a Focus Punch!" As Wigglytuff inflated, Regigigas began to slowly concentrate, moving its arm in a careful, deliberate windup carried out while searching for a weak spot on a rapidly expanding pokemon. Any attack could have interrupted it, and it was a miracle it maintained its focus even still, with the weather being what it was, but it maintained its focus and smacked Wigglytuff with an uppercut that sent it floating helplessly into the air.

And yet Green didn't even seem to mind. "Higher!" she shouted. "Rise some more! Regigigas can't hit you when you're floating above the stands!"

"And you can hit Regigigas?" Palmer asked the cheering girl.

"Yes, as a matter of fact I can. Wigglytuff, Hyper Beam!" Regigigas was dazzled by and engulfed in a brilliant orange burst of light as wide as Wigglytuff's newly inflated mouth. As the balloon pokemon continued to float away, the beam burnt the sand around it, then slammed into its foe with a slight movement of Wigglytuff's mouth. A few seconds later, the beam stopped, but Regigigas looked unable to take advantage of its foe's rest, for Wigglytuff was too high in the sky for any punch to hit.

"Regigigas, remember that item I gave you! Stop watching and knock it out of the sky with a Fling!" It didn't look like much, but Regigigas' lights flashed as it retrieved an oddly shaped rock from the top of its head, than threw it with the speed of a fastball at the floating balloon of a pokemon. The attack only managed to skim Wigglytuff's head, but the rock's spikes were sharp enough to rip a tiny hole in its curl of hair, which allowed for the excess air to escape. Wigglytuff was sent floating back down to earth as it shrunk to normal size before the wound grew too small to have an impact: what was left was more pokemon than balloon.

"Wigglytuff, Last Resort!" Unlike Clefable, Wigglytuff's connections to outer space are often forgotten, but they still evolve with Moon Stones. And it was the moon's sky which this latest attack resembled, for Wigglytuff, like a Swift on steroids, encircled Regigigas in a sea of bladed stars. With a tiny, pink raised hand, the stars stopped orbiting the large mechanical pokemon and flew into it all at once, slicing the robot with a thousand tiny cuts.

"Regigigas, Return!" Palmer yelled, holding up his poke ball, but it was a feint: while Green and her Wigglytuff relaxed, Regigigas was wise enough to know the difference between "come back" and "Return" and slammed into Wigglytuff with another thousand megatons of force.

The larger Wigglytuff could take such an attack, but at its current size, the balloon simply became a pancake. It would re-inflate in time even without a pokemon center, but it had fainted, and Green was down to her last pokemon.

"Mew, it's all up to you! Size isn't everything in a pokemon battle – let's prove it to that giant!" Green shouted, as much to encourage her pokemon as to reassure herself. The story of how she had caught Mew was an interesting one, based around Green's trademark trickery. After her Ditto had impersonated it, she had recalled not her Mew, but the real one with Ditto's poke ball, then recaptured her own Ditto the old-fashioned way. Mew was shocked to find itself in a poke ball, but out of respect for the skills of its newfound trainer, decided to live a few decades as a trained pokemon; after all, it did appreciate a good deception and it hadn't been captured in a while.

Before Green called out an attack, Palmer already had to recall Regigigas. Wigglytuff had defeated it in a way; water and sand had poured in through the many cuts it inflicted and clogged up its machinery, leaving it unable to battle or even move. With a sigh, he held up a poke ball, returned Regigigas and summoned his final pokemon – at least Mew was a bit exposed to the weather in the interval, and every bit counted in a match like this.

Palmer could not claim a type advantage: indeed, for all he knew Green expected this matchup and had taught Mew the appropriate counters. But at the very least, he had a tough pokemon which wasn't too weak (like Dragonite or Rhyperior) against any particular type. "Milotic, go!"

Serpents are usually thought of as terrifying beasts, but this pokemon was literally a thing of beauty, with a mermaid's red hair and a tail of interlocking blue and red diamonds at opposite ends up the water pokemon's thick, lithe body. "Milotic, start things off with a Surf!" It was easy to forget that beneath the wet sand and ice covering the field lay a thin layer of freezing acidic water, and Milotic smashed the ice with its tail, then summoned an enormous, multi-elemental wave which even Mew could not stop from washing over it. It didn't wash Mew away, but it certainly hurt.

"Mew, Roost!" The technique was a triply odd one: not only did Mew not fly to begin with, but Green's fear of birds made it a difficult technique for it to practice, and it was being used on Mew's first turn of the match. But between the deadly weather and the fact that Milotic had used up nearly all the water on its side, the announcers had nothing but praise for the call. Mew rested on its tail, balancing on it like a bird on its legs, and like a bird who takes a breather or a psychic using Recover, its damage was wiped away in an instant.

"Milotic, Blizzard!" This time, rather than relying on all the weather at once, Milotic opened its mouth and blew an enormous storm of snow Mew's way, which mixed with the hail to cover the small feline in frozen water.

It would not be enough. Mew was clearly wounded, but still very much going – and it looked healthy enough to survive another round of weather, to boot.

"Mew, Thunderbolt!" Sand and acid rain and hail and sunlight were bad enough, but nothing cripples water pokemon quite like lightning. A bolt from Mew's cheeks rose into to the sky above its serpentine foe and enveloped Milotic in a column of light.

It wasn't the deadliest attack, and Milotic were known for their strong defenses. In an ordinary battle, Milotic would have struck back next turn, Mew would be wiped away, and the match would be over.

This was not an ordinary battle. Again, like Heatran, Blastoise, and Regigigas before it, Milotic was defeated not by Green, but by the weather.

"Imagine that. All three of my pokemon, defeated by the weather." Palmer said, recalling his last pokemon with a sigh, then waited for the field to rotate to something less dangerous and walked across the field to meet his conqueror. His clothing was drenched and slightly punctured and he felt like he needed a pokemon center, and Green, from the looks of things, was in even worse shape. (He tried not to look too long, although the same could not be said of the TV cameras: then again, the girl wasn't shy.)

Green shook her head. "It wasn't the weather that defeated you."

Palmer nodded. It was tempting to blame his loss on the terrain, but it was Green who had used that terrain perfectly to her advantage. She had to have calculated how much damage the acid rain was doing per turn and factored it into her strategy. And that was something that he, who had never seen this condition, was simply too set in his ways to pull off.

"You're right. The best trainer won. Now win the next two matches: I don't want to lose to anyone but the champion."

With a wink and a nod, Green promised him that she would do exactly that. She hoped she could keep her promise. After all, she wasn't the first pokemon trainer to swear that they would become the champion.


	12. Match 12!  Battle in the Tall Hills!

It would be the last quarterfinal match, the last three on three contest of the tournament. The semifinals would contain two contestants from Kanto, one from Hoenn, and one from Johto: the only question was which one from Johto would make it there. It was with a heavy heart that Silver and Crys had prepared for this match. They didn't want it to come to this, but as pokemon trainers, they'd still do everything they could not to lose.

"We'll make this a match for the ages," the two said simultaneously, then retreated to their trainer's boxes. The arena this time was not a single mountain, but a range of steep peaks and cliffs and valleys, none tall enough to be covered in snow, with Stealth Rocks floating in the air for any pokemon bold enough to try to fly over them.

"Feraligatr, go!" A blue bipedal crocodilian with thick, bumpy scales appeared from Silver's poke ball, towering over its trainer.

"Meganium, go!" A green sauropod dinosaur with six large red petals around the base of its neck like a flower emerged from Crys' poke ball, standing as tall as some of the smaller hills, although this was largely because of its long neck; without it, the Meganium would only be about the size of a Rapidash.

"Okay, Meganium. Let's start things off with some Wild Growth!" Vines beneath Feraligatr's feet – perhaps Meganium's roots snaking beneath the mountains, perhaps merely local plants under its command – grabbed Feraligatr by its legs, flipped it over, dangled it upside-down, then slammed it headfirst into the ground while the mountains bloomed green with all sorts of fauna: even Meganium's petals doubled in size.

"Feraligatr, climb to the top of the mountain, then strike it with an Ice Beam!" Feraligatr tried in vain to free itself from the Wild Growth, but the plants were growing too fast for it to have anything close to a clear path. In desperation, it attempted to chomp through the growing plants, but its teeth, sharp as they were, were designed for animal flesh and could do little against plants.

Crystal smiled as Meganium rode the growing plants to the top of its own mountain and created a flat platform of vegetation to send its Soothing Scent wafting throughout the arena, putting Feraligatr to sleep and infesting its large nostrils with damaging spores it was too pacified to resist.

Silver held up his poke ball, preparing to recall his Feraligatr, but decided against it: doing so would merely give Meganium a new target to attack while he switched. Feraligatr was as good as fainted, and although he hated to say it about the pokemon he had stolen to begin his journey, it seemed that the best strategy right now was to let Crystal take it out.

There are many pokemon trainers who would take advantage of a battle with a sleeping pokemon to power up their own fighter. Crystal was not one of them, and even if she was, Meganium (as Silver suspected) did not know the relevant techniques. "Finish it off with a Solarbeam!"

Meganium's petals grew even larger as they began to take in energy, glowing with the bright yellow light of the sun. Feraligatr suddenly woke up (for few pokemon can sleep through a battle for long) and found itself with a direct shot at its target – after all, if one pokemon could hit, so could the other, high ground or no high ground. And thus a narrow beam of ice was shot through a wide Solarbeam, flying too quickly to be melted by the light and heat of the other attack.

Meganium was chilled to its very roots and its petals began to wither: two dropped to the ground to be replaced with much smaller ones behind them, smaller than even the ones with which it had started the match. It did however get the better of the exchange, for when the light faded from Feraligatr, all that was left was a water pokemon lying face-down in a valley surrounded by rapidly growing grass.

"Feraligatr, return!" Silver shouted, and the red light barely managed to engulf it; he briefly wondered if he'd have to go onto the field to retrieve his next pokemon who fainted. He hoped not to find out, because he didn't plan on letting any of his remaining pokemon faint.

"Entei, set this new forest on fire, and Meganium with it!" A red-orange beast as tall as Meganium, as much Granbull as Luxray, feline as canine, emerged from Silver's poke ball, its badly burnt face covered by a star-shaped red and yellow mask. With a loud roar, Entei surrounded itself in flames, igniting an enormous blaze which filled the air of the arena with smoke and ash. And then, as if it was not spreading fast enough, Entei bounded over the hills like a Johnny Appleseed of arson, the fire billowing out in its wake, erasing the entirety of Meganium's Wild Growth. "Now, Flare Blitz!"

"Not so fast!" Crystal shouted, although she wondered if she could truly back up her brave words. "Meganium, Light Screen!" A transparent veil of light surrounded Meganium, less a screen than a box, albeit one which did nothing to prevent Entei from bounding through it and setting Meganium aflame as it rammed headfirst into the sauropod's neck.

"Crystal, you sure you didn't mean Reflect?" Silver asked as Meganium reeled from the attack and fell to the ground, but stop, drop, and roll wasn't all that effective if one was rolling around in a brush fire. Then again, perhaps Meganium was simply unable to stand; judging from the injury Entei had taken it certainly looked like a powerful attack.

"No, I meant Light Screen. I didn't teach it Reflect because I was more worried about your special attacks," Crystal answered as she recalled her fainted starter pokemon. "Now, time to put out the fire – Suicune, Surf!" Entei's water-type counterpart was summoned, equally large and ferocious as the pokemon it faced, but with a more slender build, a light blue color, and white diamond spots which vaguely recalled the falling snow legends told of Suicune bringing with the north wind. The fire dissipated as Suicune roared, at least on Crystal's half of the field, for the wave broke against the tall mountain in the arena's center, washing Entei up on its slopes.

Silver sighed. There was absolutely nothing about Crystal's use of Suicune there that he did not expect: from the moment he summoned Entei to defeat Meganium, he had foreseen this Surf. The problem was that, as much as he went over the impending battle in his head yesterday and earlier today, there was also very little Entei could actually do about it, and the only tactic it did have wouldn't work with Light Screen up. Silver held out a begrudging poke ball – he didn't have another legend, but at least he could get a better matchup – and called his pokemon back.

The red light bounced harmlessly off the mountain, failing to absorb his pokemon. It was then that Silver noticed the other reason for this terrain. It wasn't just about having the high ground: it was also a way to make it very difficult for trainers to call their pokemon back!

But he'd change this matchup anyway, one way or another. "Entei, Roar!" It didn't sound all that different from the call it made in the beginning of the match, just a bit louder. Yet Suicune, Entei's sibling, the god of the north wind, was still so spooked by the sound that it ran away from the match and back into its trainer's poke ball.

Before Crystal could choose her pokemon, another emerged from her belt, summoned by the roar; while Suicune had been terrified, her Arcanine had taken it as a challenge! Two legendary beasts of flame faced off against one another, so similar that one could be forgiven for believing them related, but Arcanine's orange fur was covered in black stripes, and its mane and tail an off-white color. It had no mask, just an extraordinarily canine face, albeit one perhaps more suited to a pet dog than a fearsome legend.

"Arcanine, Extremespeed!" That her pokemon had joined the battle of its own volition did not seem to bother Crystal: with Suicune in hiding, it was probably her best option, and she wasn't about to let millions of fans around the world see her scold her pokemon in the midst of a quarterfinal match anyway. The orange and off-white beast became a blur of those colors, bounding over mountains as easily as a bouncing Grumpig until it rammed into Entei, who bounced first back against the rocks, then slid hopelessly down to the ground.

"Entei, show it your own Extremespeed!" Entei had not actually regained its footing when Silver ordered this attack, but it gained in momentum what it lost in traction: it was moving so fast it might as well have been running on air. Yet it found an equally difficult target in Arcanine, still moving extraordinarily fast, who sought to avoid Entei's attack by outrunning it. It fled Entei and Crystal alike, up the center mountain, then back down, then began the climb to the final peak; the one closest to Silver.

"Arcanine, stop!" Crystal shouted, and the less unique yet still legendary pokemon ceased its motion and was rewarded for its obedience by being rammed into rocks as it had rammed its foe earlier, then fell backwards down into the valley between the two mountains, bouncing from rock to rock the whole way – it looked hurt even worse than Entei.

"Why'd you stop it, Crys? Are you going easy on me?" Silver asked.

She shook her head. "Arcanine hadn't turned once in that chase. And it couldn't: Extremespeed is too just too fast an attack. Once it became clear Entei would catch up, I had to make sure that wherever they stopped, you couldn't recall your pokemon either."

"Once it became clear?" Silver wondered quietly. It was a lie. Arcanine didn't have to run up a mountain and back down for that part to become obvious; it never had a chance of outrunning Entei and Crystal had known that from the moment it took off. But that was just like her: she was loyal to her pokemon to the end even when they were so spooked by that they were disobeying her in one of the biggest matches of her life.

"Entei has nowhere to run." Silver was mildly confused by Crystal's statement – wasn't Arcanine the one at the bottom of the valley? "Or at the very least, it can't possibly know where to go! Arcanine, Dig!"

"Dig? Your pokemon knows dig? You brought it to the World Championship with Dig?" Silver was baffled. Sometimes Crystal pulled out amazing moves, but sometimes he wondered how she ever became a topflight pokemon trainer.

"I mostly use it for transportation. Arcanine doesn't have the widest movepool, so I never switched it out. But it sure comes in handy in a match like this."

Silver would have liked to dispute this, but he had no argument. Nor, for that matter, did he have an attack which would work in this situation. "Entei, run towards me – I'll call you back and let someone else finish this!"

"Not so fast!" Crystal shouted as Entei climbed over the final mountain. The more reddish canine tripped at the top and bounced high into the air, for the peak itself had been cracked open by a rising Arcanine: when it landed, it didn't get back up.

"Entei, return," Silver said through gritted teeth. He had been too lighthearted, too friendly. Yes, if he lost he'd want Crystal to win this tournament, yes, he counted her as a friend, but he still had a match to win!

He wanted to add that he had just the pokemon to do it. He did not. He was far enough behind and Crystal's pokemon strong enough that he wasn't sure if there was a pokemon who could guarantee him victory.

What he did have was a ferocious pokemon who had once torn up the Lake of Rage. "Gyarados, go!" Silver called out, releasing his pokemon high into the sky. His Gyarados was a great floating sea serpent with six tiny, finlike wings which seemed too small for it to fly, like most of its species, and its wings carried it high enough for it to bang its head on a floating rock it hadn't even seen. It was remarkable in its color, however, for the usual blue had been replaced with a bright red that recalled the blood upon which Gyarados so often feast, and it sparkled when it emerged from its poke ball. "Start this off with a Spiral Growth!"

"Arcanine, Crunch!" Crystal answered Silver's command, while the red Gyarados rotated in a spiral pattern and grew with each turn as it approached Arcanine's open mouth. The motion of its scales made Arcanine misjudge the distance, and it bit only air as the Gyarados spiraled into it, than picked it up and flew high away, squeezing its foe tightly in its coils.

"Arcanine!" Crystal shouted – she wanted to return it just to get it out of this position, but against Gyarados' tight wrapping she didn't trust her poke ball's aim enough to hit. She was the catcher, but not the returner, and throwing or kicking was always easier than shooting red lasers. Dig was impossible. Crunch was the obvious call, but it was obvious enough that Gyarados had taken special care to wrap itself around Arcanine's snout, sealing its jaw tightly shut. And Extremespeed required ground to stand on.

Not very effective was better than nothing. "Arcanine, Firestorm!" With a furious wag of Arcanine's still-free tail, the stealth rocks in the air disintegrated, the sun shined even brighter, and a swarm of meteors dropped from the sky onto both Gyarados and Arcanine, freeing the fire-type from the shiny pokemon's grasp.

But it was not to herald a comeback. No sooner was Crystal's Arcanine freed than it began falling, and when it landed on its side, it was too wounded to stand back up. Crystal called a timeout and walked halfway across the field to retrieve her pokemon, then returned to her trainer's box to summon her Suicune once more.

"Gyarados, All-out Blast!" Silver shouted – he knew the risks, but maybe it would be worth it, and he didn't see much point in wasting time and risking his pokemon's health so it could toss Suicune around a little. One shot would be all he needed.

"Suicune, Blizzard!" Crystal answered desperately – she knew what the Red Gyarados could do firsthand, and she wasn't about to lose.

A wide, blood-red laser fired with such destructive force that it seemed to be powered by using up Gyarados' own spirit flew through a snowstorm so cold that, were this weather occurring in the wild, even Snorunt would run for shelter. At the same moment, both attacks connected.

At the same moment, both pokemon fainted.

"Gyarados and Suicune are both unable to battle, and their defeat was simultaneous. Trainers, select a fourth pokemon for the overtime round!"

The two trainers each selected a poke ball, then raised it simultaneously, although Crystal allowed Silver to release the contained pokemon first, mostly in order to give the cameras more time to focus. "Weavile, you've been with me from the start. Make sure this isn't the end!" Silver shouted, releasing his pokemon – a small, bipedal black mustelid, tiny compared to the enormous pokemon which had earlier marked this match, with hair that resembled a red crown which many legends claim it stole: given their use by thieves it wasn't hard to see why.

"Hitmonchan, I've lost count of the battles you've won for me. Time to make it one more!" Crystal commanded, releasing a brown, human-shaped pokemon about the size of an adult man, with a fist for a face and two red boxing gloves on its actual fists. It was dressed in a pink outfit which recalled the kilts of Scotsmen and the tunics of Roman soldiers.

Silver recoiled in defeat as he saw Crystal's pokemon emerge. He had known her for how long? The surprising thing wasn't that she was using it now: it was that she had gone so long without doing so! And he was stuck with a pokemon he had called out for sentimental reasons, who may have been powerful but who handled fighting moves like an Onix handled water.

"Don't," Crystal said as she viewed her opponent's visage, albeit on the jumbotron, not across the mountainous field. "You took me to overtime. I'm sure you have some trick up your sleeve: this match isn't over. Your pokemon deserve better than this. Weavile's beaten fighting types before, so don't give up before the match begins!"

Silver nodded, but his actual command lacked some of the bursting hotblooded energy normally associated with a pokemon trainer's call. "Thanks, Crys. Weavile, Low Kick."

"Hitmonchan, Close Combat!" The two pokemon ran towards each other, Weavile claiming the high ground on the tallest mountain with its superior speed, Hitmonchan charging uphill towards it, undaunted. Crystal had not managed to hear Silver's command, and neither had Hitmonchan, so when her pokemon went in for a close-range punch to finish the match, neither of them was watching Weavile's legs. A low, sweeping kick sent an unguarded Hitmonchan tumbling down the tall hill: Crystal counted it lucky to stand back up on its feet and get back into the match.

But Silver had given her an idea.

"Hitmonchan, Counter," she said, hoping her command was too quiet for Silver to hear, as her pokemon assumed a defensive pose: at least the order had reached Hitmonchan.

"Weavile, let's win this match. Give it everything you've got and show Hitmonchan it's not the only pokemon with an awesome fist. Ice Punch!" Weavile ran down the mountain, a black blur trailing a white fist of ice which connected with Hitmonchan's belt. The fighting pokemon's knees buckled. It struggled to stand.

And then it retaliated with a swift punch in Weavile's face which knocked over the ice type. Ten seconds later, Weavile was still down.

"Weavile is unable to battle! Victory in the final semifinal match goes to Crystal of New Bark Town!"

"I'm so sorry, Silver," Crystal said sheepishly, hiking across the mountains to recall her badly injured Hitmonchan. It looked so human she wanted to let it give Weavile a handshake, but its hands were fists. At least this mountain range was smaller and wouldn't cost her the use of any body parts.

"Don't mention it," Silver answered, likewise returning his fainted Weavile. "May the best trainer win, right Crys? Now go on and win the tournament; we need to bring the crown back to Johto!"

"Right. I'll win it! For you, for Gold, for everyone!" She shouted, pointing a finger dramatically to the sky – they weren't displaying the trophy yet. And then, after a long embrace, the two trainers parted ways and left the arena: Crystal had a semifinal to prepare for, after all, and Silver, despite his strong facade, was still desperately holding back the tears of defeat.

The mountains, damaged by a Firestorm and Arcanine's Dig, but still in excellent shape compared to most of the other fields this tournament, rotated back into the ground, revealing the plain arena which would host the final three matches of the championship.

The first phase of matches with three pokemon each and one pokemon at a time had concluded, and countless strange arenas (and the normal one on which Winona and Alder had battled) had done likewise. Now, the arena would be the familiar part, for four or six pokemon and double and triple battles lay ahead. Triumph in one on one combat alone, after all, was not nearly enough for a trainer to merit the title of pokemon master!


	13. Match 13!  Battle in the Sky!

Green had never placed higher than third in a major Pokemon tournament, unless she counted the Kanto regionals for the tournament she was now in, and therefore viewed the semifinals with a bit of trepidation. Given the choice, she wasn't sure who she would want to fight. Crys was probably the weakest - next to Green herself, anyway. But she'd be okay with facing Red; she had beaten him, albeit not in an official tournament.

The one trainer who scared her (well, not the trainer so much as her pokemon) was also the one who the scoreboard, in its last revelation, had selected as her opponent. Green's ornithophobia was not as bad as it had once been, but the scars of being abducted by Ho-oh as a child were not the sort which quickly healed. It wouldn't be the first time she lost a semifinal match to a flying specialist, especially since Winona was probably better with flying pokemon than even Professor Oak.

Then again, she had a surprise or three up her sleeve. She wasn't going to let herself lose to her fear, and she could claim a couple birds who tended to do well against other ones. She just hoped the four on four double battle format wouldn't hurt her too much: she hadn't practiced it that much, but few trainers had.

"Articuno, Zapdos, go!" Winona watched in awe as Green summoned her first two pokemon. It wasn't that they were legendary which made Winona react this way, for the best trainers on earth made legends seem common. It was that they were the legendary _birds_, the pokemon of her childhood dreams, the greatest and largest pokemon to ever fly the skies. Green watched with a mix of terror and dreamlike elation as they came out; it seemed unreal that she was really commanding such pokemon. The sky crackled with ice and lightning as two of the enormous legendary birds emerged from Green's poke balls. Articuno, as the legends described, was an icy blue in color, with a long, curving tail which stretched even further than its enormous wings. Zapdos was an electric yellow, with a long Fearow-like beak and spiked wings, the top side of which, as seen by the many fans in the upper deck (who relished this matchup: it was nice getting the best view for once) was a blackened ash.

For a moment, Winona was content to watch them flap their wings, their wingspans so large that they had flown to separate corners on Green's side of the arena simply to avoid banging into each other. But she had a battle to win. "Skarmory, Swellow, come out!" These two birds were large by the standards of flying pokemon, but were dwarfed by the bird gods of Kanto's legends. Skarmory was covered in a thick coat of mithril which, while light for a metal, was nonetheless heavy enough that it might have been heavier than its two foes, with an arsenal of swords for wings and an amazing amount of muscle underneath, which was needed simply to be able to fly. Swellow was a far more normal bird: it was blue and red in color, but its sleek design and lack of element recalled Pidgeot or Staraptor more than its teammate, let alone the giants on the other side of the arena.

"Zapdos, Thunderbolt Skarmory! Articuno, Ice Beam Swellow!" Green shouted, and although her commands were perhaps lacking in synergy, it was not implausible to think they could win on raw power alone. As the ice and lightning sped towards her two pokemon, Winona hastily shouted her orders, but her situation left her tongue-tied.

"Skarmory, Protect! Swellow, Steel Wing Articuno!"

Luckily, both pokemon understood their trainer's error, and covered for her by using the attacks that they actually knew. As the ice sped from Articuno's wings in more of a sheet than a beam, Swellow turned its wings into own wings into swords like its teammate's, or at least batons, and shredded the attack with them at the expense of using any moves of its own. Skarmory flew through the thunderstorm, clearly wincing when the lightning from Zapdos' wings struck it, but it was not paralyzed or knocked out. It continued flying, then turned a sharp left as it raked Articuno's outstretched wing with its knifelike feathers, spilling a touch of frozen blood to freeze the grass down far below.

A toxic orb fell to the ground with a thud, cracking as Swellow winced from its poison. Against pokemon which froze and burnt, it didn't seem like a bad idea at all.

"Swellow, Mirror Move on Zapdos! Skarmory, Swords Dance!" It had spilled blood and made Articuno let out a bone-chilling cry of pain, but clearly Winona thought that her Skarmory's attack hadn't done enough. Or perhaps it was that she was just so unused to double battles that she did not pay sufficient mind to the fact that it had two potential attackers instead of one. Skarmory twirled gracefully in place, its wings bashing into each other and sharpened to many fine and deadly points. Swellow, on the other hand, spread its wings in a sudden, expert imitation of Articuno, its wings lightening to an icy blue, then sent a floating, fast-moving storm of ice Zapdos's way: the thunderbird tried to fly to the side, but it was simply too large a target, and it was left wounded with chilled wings.

"Zapdos, Thunderbolt Swellow! Articuno, Roost!" Green was quite concerned with the fact that her Articuno had seemed to become the target of the match, and it blocked the vision of more than a few fans with its enormous wings as it briefly rested on the upper deck at the edge of the psychic shield. Articuno leaned forward as it roosted, for its wings could not adjust to a normal position, and it had come to rest on the upper deck for it feared going too low to the ground and letting the other birds use gravity's speed to their advantage. Zapdos flapped its enormous wings furiously, shooting two bolts Swellow's way with each flap. The smaller, more fragile bird was unable to resist the barrage, and while the crowd's eyes were drawn to Skarmory's beautiful, yet dangerous dance of feathers, Swellow fell out of the sky.

"Swellow, return!" Winona shouted, recalling the pokemon before it could hit the ground: she was tempted to cradle it and bandage its injuries, but they were in a match and that was what pokemon centers were for. Her next choice was made not by its own strength but by the process of elimination. She wanted to use Altaria or Rayquaza, but Articuno was fighting too well and lasting too long, and that last Roost wasn't helping matters. Pelipper deserved a chance in this tournament, but that chance couldn't come as long as Zapdos was on the other side of the field: there was a reason they hid in sheltered coves the moment the clouds began to look like thunder. Which left the one pokemon who she should have used first in retrospect anyway.

"Noctowl, come out and use Light Screen! Skarmory, another Steel Wing on Articuno!" Unlike the tiny boxes which had characterized earlier uses of this attack in the tournament, Noctowl summoned a true Light Screen with a reddish glow of its large eyes: an enormous, half-transparent wall of light which stretched all the way across the center of the field. The wall turned as Skarmory flew forward, rotating to continue to protect it without leaving its creator vulnerable. As it collided with the ice blue bird, however, Skarmory's wings crossed the wall as they struck Articuno's torso in one enormous bladed flap.

"Now! Thunderbolt Skarmory's wings!" Green shouted. "And Articuno, you give it an Ice Beam!"

"Pull back!" Winona ordered, and the smaller bird turned around as a narrow beam from Articuno's beak froze its knife-like, dark gray tail. Articuno was not so lucky, for the thunderbolt which Skarmory nimbly dodged struck it instead, and the bird began to descend, struggling to stay airborne.

"Noctowl, finish Articuno – Psychic! Skarmory..." Winona paused: neither Steel Wing nor Brave Bird would work all that well on Zapdos. "On second thought, Noctowl, hit Zapdos with a Psychic, while Skarmory, you finish off Articuno!" Noctowl turned its head rapidly, unperturbed by the change in commands by its intimidated trainer, and the waves which had been going Articuno's way suddenly shifted direction towards Zapdos. Skarmory had a bit more difficulty, but Articuno was already so wounded that it didn't need to connect with the best Steel Wing to knock it out of the match.

In a different time, she thought as Articuno descended, Winona would have only thrown her best poke ball. She wished Green hadn't gotten there first, but then again, she had captured Rayquaza for a reason, and legends seldom surrendered to trainers except in times of immense need.

"Articuno, come back! Moltres, go!" Green gulped as she summoned her third pokemon of the match: it wasn't Ho-oh, and it didn't look particularly like Ho-oh - Moltres was neither red like its element nor a rainbow like Ho-oh, although the flames which surrounded gave its soft, yellow-orange feathers something of a reddish tint. And it was these flames which disturbed her, for it was fire birds Green liked least of all. She had not trained the legendary birds before this tournament, although they were technically her pokemon: they lived their old lives in their old homes, only acknowledging a faraway master who had registered them for this tournament as her great trump card.

And then Green paused for a moment, thinking. Her strategy wasn't working. She had a type advantage, she had an even greater advantage with legends on her side, but she was on the verge of squandering it: Articuno had already fainted, and she wondered how much longer Zapdos could hold out. She needed something different. She couldn't rely on raw power to overwhelm her opponent, and it didn't feel right trying. It wasn't her style. She was a trickster, a tactician, a trainer who would send a Ditto and Wigglytuff and Mew out and win the match without relying on overwhelming power or type advantages to do it.

Winona was a master of the sky. Becoming a gym leader was harder in a way than simply becoming a champion. Champions, after all, could mix it up – gym leaders had to go up against opponents of any type, even those with a total advantage, and win. Green may have been able to claim her fair share of normal types – Ditto, Wigglytuff, and she had let Clefable off the team this time but it had an excellent career with her – but compared to Whitney, she was a joke in that regard.

Which meant she'd need a plan to beat her opponent. And as Winona's calls of "Psychic" and "Steel Wing!" and her pokemon's swiftly-moving attacks showed all too clearly, she was running out of time to think of one. "Zapdos, Heat Wave! Moltres, Overheat!" Green shouted desperately: it wasn't the type of elaborate synergy she had hoped to discover, but the way the arena's temperature was rapidly rising, as fans removed coats and sweatshirts yet continued to sweat bullets, demonstrated the validity of this particular combination.

Noctowl looked unfazed by both attacks: if they had even hit it behind the light screen, it certainly wasn't enough to hurt. Skarmory, on the other hand, was quite literally burning up, and despite Winona's desperate cry of "Roost!" did not descend to a landing to heal, but plummeted towards the ground. It did not attempt to alter its position in order to Roost: instead, as psychic waves pounded into Zapdos, Skarmory completed its original order, sending a barrage of sharp feathers the thunderbird's way with one final, enormous flap of its wings.

It was certainly true that rarely were electric pokemon felled by steel, or by wings for that matter: using these moves on them was like trying to defeat a water type by burning it. Yet as Noctowl's thoughts and Skarmory's feathers pounded into Zapdos, Green began to wish she had remembered to teach this pokemon Roost: whatever book had told her recovery wasn't worth it in a double battle was clearly mistaken. Again, her overconfidence had harmed her, and if Zapdos went down, she'd lose her only advantage left – it certainly wasn't looking good the way it was flying.

For a moment, Green prepared to call her next attacks, but she was interrupted by Winona throwing yet another pokeball: Green had forgotten for a moment that knocking two pokemon out in this format only took her halfway to victory.

"Altaria, Sing!" Winona shouted, summoning her last pokemon of the match. Yet while Green had been perturbed slightly (only slightly, for much scarier birds were flying above her on her own side) by Swellow, Skarmory, and Noctowl, it was impossible for even the most diehard ornithophobe to actually be frightened of an Altaria. This was not because it was more dragon than bird, for its more avian prevolution of Swablu was if anything less menacing. Rather, it was because Altaria was a soothing blue in color, its stomach surrounded by and its wings made of soft, fluffy clouds, and it sang a pleasant song as it entered the battlefield.

It was, in other words, exactly the type of pokemon Green used all the time, Hoenn's answer to Wigglytuff and Ditto.

"Where do you catch those? I want one!" Green shouted excitedly, not seeming to notice that Zapdos and Moltres alike were not flapping their wings anymore so much as hovering in place – nor was she able to see that their relatively small eyes had been shut. Instead of becoming sleepy, Green began belting out Altaria's tune, wishing it came with lyrics which were not in the quadrisyllabic "language" of that pokemon.

"Green, not that I'm complaining, but that's technically illegal." Winona said.

"Huh? Oh, right." Green answered, putting a hand over her mouth to clasp it shut – if trainers started Singing pokemon songs, it became a lot easier to put pokemon to sleep in the middle of a match. Annoying as it was, the rule was probably necessary.

"No harm, no foul. And in this match you could sing all you want without putting either of these two to sleep. But I don't want any fans arguing over the match if I lose."

Noctowl listened to the song, but even a Jigglypuff's song would not have fazed it. Insomnia was often a curse in one's day-to-day life, but against pokemon such as Parasect and Altaria it was absolutely a blessing. Instead, it turned its head all the way around, its face pointed backwards at Winona as it impatiently waited for her command.

"Right. Noctowl, I know this is getting boring, but someone has to finish off Zapdos. Hit it with another psychic," Winona said, and again the owl;s eyes glowed, and the sleeping Zapdos stopped hovering and fell like a rock down to earth. Green recalled it as much in terrified self-defense as from the reality that it had fainted.

She was down to her last pokemon. And it was clear which one was the right choice; the problem was that she didn't actually own it. But her Ditto had practiced hard, so she hoped that it could at least pull off a reasonable facsimile, and that it would scare Winona as much as it scared her.

"Ditto, transform into... Lugia," she hadn't meant to say that. She had intended to say Ho-oh: the pokemon she had practiced with Ditto, if she could call the short, scared sessions they had practice. A pokemon which complemented Moltres quite well in battle, and a pokemon which Ditto had sadly seen in real life.

Instead, the pink blob morphed into an imitation of Lugia, and there was no questioning that it was an imitation. It was not to scale: the bird did not have wing-arms so long that people could imagine it as making the earth, but wing-arms barely longer than a Pidgey's, with poorly formed hands too feather-like to grasp anything. The face was another problem, for rather than draw on its knowledge of similar birds, Ditto didn't even try to replicate it: it was a Lugia with a Ditto face.

Green just hoped it could battle like the real thing. "Oh, right. And Moltres, Air Slash Altaria!" she belatedly commanded, half-forgetting her pokemon was asleep. The great bird of flame, awoken by her words, obediently whipped its long beak (and with it, its entire head) diagonally downward, sending a sharp gale into Altaria: an enormous cloud, a third of the size of its left wing, was cleaved off as the dragon bird tried in vain to dodge the attack.

Winona did not laugh at Ditto. Nor was she tempted to do so; she'd have been amazed if it had somehow pulled the transformation off properly. Still, she did not consider it a threat. "Noctowl, Psychic's still the best you've got, and Green hasn't found a way around it yet! Altaria, complement its mental attack with some physical mayhem – whack it with a Dragon Claw!" Moltres, strangly enough, seemed a more difficult target than Zapdos, or perhaps Noctowl was simply using up its mental energy too quickly. The attack struck, but the great bird had awoken with a reborn spirit and didn't even notice. Altaria's claw raked Moltres, but the claw was as much hand as claw; were Altaria not a dragon type, it would have been hurt more by touching the fiery pokemon than Moltres was from its actual attack. Winona hung her head at the results of these attacks. She had overcome her weaknesses, the birds who destroyed other birds, but her remaining pokemon didn't seem like they had the raw power to defeat the remaining titan and faux-titan of the sky.

And Winona's disappointment was to Green a source of elation. "Moltres, Air Slash Altaria! Lugia, Aeroblast it! We're gonna beat Winona the flying way!" Blades circled around a vortex of wind, scoring critical hits on the slender dragon of the clouds, and the vortex hurt as much as the blades themselves. Were it not for Noctowl's Light Screen, or the light clay in its feathers which let the screen stand beyond the time when most Light Screens would fall, these attacks would have been enough to leave only Noctowl flying on Winona's side of the field.

But Altaria still flew, at least for now. And so did Noctowl. And it would be Winona of all trainers who would change that. "You're fighting hard. Both of you, Roost! We're gonna need to stay healthy to win this!" The two pokemon descended all the way to ground level, sparking cheers from the fans in the lower bowl of the stadium, in order to rest their weary wings. Altaria's wings regenerated in the process on the ground, and Noctowl's wounds began to close up as well: they were rejuvenating themselves with the speed that characterized so many birds in all aspects of their battles.

For a moment, Green hesitated, delaying her command while she tried to discover a way for her pokemon to win. Even when their attacks had worked together on Altaria, it had just healed the damage with a Roost. That Light Screen was the culprit, but Noctowl could set another one up just as easily. And combining attacks wasn't working.

So she'd have to combine more powerful attacks next time.

"Moltres, Sky Attack – target is Noctowl! Lugia, Calm Mind!" Moltres looked less like a bird and more like pure energy in the shape of a bird as its physical form engulfed itself in glowing flames. Lugia did not move and said nothing, but the Eye of Horus suddenly appeared on its misshapen forehead: an external visualization of the transformed Ditto's extreme focus.

"Noctowl, Reflect!" For so much of the match, the fact that it even knew this technique seemed like a pointless waste of time; Winona hadn't expected Green to use the legendary birds to begin with, but physical attackers. But it certainly came in handy as another wall of light appeared, this one more focused on preventing movement than elements: a speedbump on the road to an enemy pokemon. "And Altaria, Dragon Dance!" With the trademark grace of Winona's pokemon, Altaria soared high above the battlefield, twisting and turning through the clouds in a way which made it hard to realize where the mass of clouds ended and Altaria's wing began.

"Lugia, Aeroblast Noctowl! Moltres, finish your Sky Attack!" Moltres-shaped energy was surrounded in another vortex of spiraling air and the twin attacks hit the brown owl at once, but Noctowl did not fall.

"Noctowl, Roost again!" Nor did it move. The attack was not devastating, but a flinch was all it took: it was too busy absorbing its wounds to heal them, and wounded as it was, she wondered if it would ever have that chance this match. "Altaria, Outrage!" Whether it had truly mistaken Ditto's Lugia morph for a dragon (an easy mistake to make for one less familiar with legends) or whether it simply thought it a better target than Moltres, Altaria spun its wings like a torpedo as it recklessly charged into the smallest of the four birds above the field.

Lugia seemed wounded by the attack, but it wasn't enough. It wasn't nearly enough.

"Lugia, another Aeroblast on Noctowl! Moltres, go back to Air Slash!" Green shouted, elated: she could already smell the scent of victory. The combination was not new in this battle, nor did it look different in appearance – still the same blades cutting through a vortex of wind – but Noctowl, badly wounded by the Sky Attack last round, no longer had the defenses to endure such an assault.

Winona offered no command this round, nor did she need to: her Noctowl had fainted, and her Altaria, in the midst of its outrage, would not have listened even if she had given it a command. The cloud dragon continued to ignore the Moltres on the other side of the arena, and after its last hit, had climbed, turned, and dove to regain its momentum. It now resumed its path from the right and smashed into the tiny false Lugia once again.

It is unknown except perhaps to Ditto itself whether the attack had hit exceptionally hard, or whether it was simply that the transformation had failed to give the false Lugia anywhere near the defenses of the real thing. Nonetheless, soon after Noctowl fainted, Lugia reverted to Ditto and plunged unconscious to the ground itself: it was down to Moltres against Altaria.

And Green wondered if Moltres had a way to win: dragons did resist fire, after all. Perhaps she had become too overconfident. The Light Screen had vanished before the two trainers gave their next round of commands, which gave her some hope, but she doubted a single Air Slash alone would be enough to finish the match.

"Moltres, Substitute!" The great firebird once again vanished, as it had when it used Sky Attack, but was replaced not by a bird-shaped mass of fiery energy but by a small Moltres-shaped kite which flew around the arena as the wind carried it.

Altaria, disoriented by its Outrage, attempted to listen to Winona's command to repeat that attack, but had somehow mistaken one of the numerous Moltres-shaped statues along the top row of Indigo Stadium's upper deck for the real thing and attempted to topple it headfirst: instead, it merely injured its head as it banged into the psychic shield, then turned around, dove for the kite, and was struck from behind by another blade of wind from the general direction of the Moltres kite.

Altaria, still confused, continued to fight, and rammed the Substitute with such a powerful Outrage that it would have toppled the real thing. But as Moltres emerged from behind a heavy group of clouds, Winona found herself vacillating between resigning and fighting to the bitter end when a final Air Slash made the decision for her.

Winona recalled her Altaria before it hit the ground, then gingerly crossed the arena. It should have been humiliating to lose to a team composed exclusively of flying pokemon, but her foe had summoned the legendary birds and she had left Rayquaza in its poke ball. She was not dejected at losing: it would have been nice to win this match, but she had no wishes she desperately needed to come true. Save, of course, for the one which already had, for she had stopped both Archie and Maxie from winning. She didn't think of herself as a favorite and considered herself fortunate to have made it to the semifinals.

"Congratulations." Winona said, reaching into her shirt pocket. "It wasn't in the Fortree Gym, but the Feather Badge is yours if you want it. You beat me fair and square, and it looked like you overcame your fears to boot, whatever they were."

"Birds," Green answered, and she seemed somewhat brought down from her victory at the thought. "And I didn't. I panicked. If Ditto had turned into Ho-oh like I meant to ask it to... this match would've been over a lot sooner."

"And if I had used Rayquaza instead of relying on Altaria, perhaps I would have won. But don't worry about that stuff. All you can do is look forward and try to win the day after tomorrow."

Green nodded, then danced out of the arena in pure jubilation. One more win. All she had to do was beat Red or Crystal, but knowing Red's utter skill that seemed unlikely. Then again, Crys getting this far was unlikely too, so maybe she was underestimating her. One more win and the championship would be hers, as would anything else she wanted. And getting a wish granted could be every bit as fun as becoming the world champion! 


	14. Match 14!  Battle in the Earthquakes!

"It's just my luck to keep fighting pokedex holders." Crystal thought. She had beaten Blue and Silver to get this far; the plethora of villains and elite four members and gym leaders who she barely knew simply hadn't been pitted against her. Not in the regional, and not in the tournament proper. Even if she did somehow beat Red, and "somehow" seemed about right given her opponent's reputation, she would face another pokedex holder in Green for the championship.

At least if she did win, it'd be less painful than her last match. Red was a difficult person to communicate with. Crystal had never managed to learn most of his signs: when they did talk, he often got frustrated and resorted to writing words down on a piece of paper to get the information across. And because of this barrier, they had never been all that close. But there was no doubting his skill as a pokemon trainer: she wouldn't taunt him, just wonder how on earth she could possibly win.

The two trainers stepped into their respective boxes, then summoned their two pokemon each for this double battle. Crys revealed hers first, although Red of course was obliged to select which pokeball he'd use before this revelation. It wasn't a gym match, after all, and no trainer could be allowed any advantage.

"Suicune, Meganium, go!" she shouted, revealing two quite large pokemon. One of them was a beast as much feline as canine, with diamond spots of snow inspired by the legend of the north wind and the clear rains it brought. Its teammate was an herbivorous green sauropod whose neck was ringed by red petals, a creature whose fusion of grass and dinosaur recalled its relatives of Venusaur and Sceptile.

Red silently opened his own poke balls to reveal his Pikachu and Espeon. Pikachu were rarely said to count for much, and his chubby yellow rodent with bright red cheeks did not look like an exception, but it had escaped Lorelei where all others fell and given Yellow the chance to save him. Although tall tales often exaggerated its skill to the levels of gods and superheroes, few could deny that it was far above and beyond others of its species in skill and power alike. His Espeon was similarly storied: once a minion of Team Rocket with the ability to shift between the three old eeveelutions, its life was saved from a series of experiments by Red and it eventually became one of the first Eevee in Kanto to evolve into Espeon. Red often wondered if it would have been stronger otherwise, as did Espeon, but neither of them minded; some things were more important than power.

"Meganium, Earthquake! Suicune, Surf!" Crystal had spent far more time before the match researching double battles than she had researching her opponent, and had staked her chances of victory on the hopes of mastering this particular format. While Meganium stomped its enormous feet, a wave from Suicune's ribbon tail washed over friend and foe alike. Suicune, despite its great size, barely avoided falling into the earth, but Pikachu and Espeon were not so lucky. Water soon rushed into the crevasses, trying to cover both of the much smaller pokemon.

Pikachu's answer to this attack was to spread its small arms like an Emolga and Fly high into the air. It had clearly been wounded, as the fans and both trainers saw even despite its small size. It soared high into the air, well above even Meganium's head; the eight birds in the last match had seldom reached this altitude. Espeon's response was more subdued: a shooting star zoomed across the sky, but Crystal could only guess whose Wish for healing it would grant.

Not that she could do anything about it either way. Her strategy had been based around damaging both pokemon at once, but Pikachu's use of Fly had made that impossible this turn. Again, Red had seen through her; there was a reason she never could beat him in all their matches, and today wasn't looking like the exception.

"Meganium, Petal Dance! Suicune, Ice Beam! Let's knock Espeon out before it can heal anyone!" To watch a Meganium dance was a strange sight, but the big, lumbering pokemon nevertheless stomped and swayed to the noise of the crowd, shedding a garden of petals from the flowers around its neck as it moved. The petals flew through Espeon's fur, slicing it with countless tiny cuts. These wounds were soon iced by a powerful beam from Suicune's mouth, but the cold if anything hurt worse than the petals; rather than canceling the preceding technique out it only intensified the small psychic's pain.

And then, with the sun shining brighter than ever on this weekend match, it healed. And then Pikachu, equally revitalized, plummeted out of the sky onto Meganium's outstretched, exposed head like a tiny, rodent-shaped meteor.

"Impossible." Crystal said. "It couldn't... Both in one turn? Unless..." It was absolutely true that Wish could only heal one pokemon at a time, but there was no second star, so Espeon hadn't used Wish this turn anyway. Red, for whatever reason, had determined that two real attacks were enough, and therefore used two of his four move slots on healing techniques: one for Espeon itself, the other for its teammate.

It was crazy, but it wasn't impossible at all.

Again, Crystal hesitated before attacking, clearly the more distressed of the two trainers. Pikachu was fragile, but it was also on Meganium's head. The only attack Suicune knew narrow enough to have a chance of not hurting Meganium was Ice Beam, and even if it missed by inches it could still easily knock out her own pokemon.

The pokemon she should be targeting, then, was Espeon. And she needed more power to do it – if Pikachu got captured in Meganium's vines, all the better. "Suicune, Calm Mind! Meganium, Wild Growth!"

Pikachu leaped off Meganium's head before the foliage which had suddenly started to grow rapidly all along the sauropod's body could reach it, then flew back up into the air, as much to avoid the grass as to harm any pokemon on its descent: there was nowhere safe for it to land. Espeon retaliated against Meganium with a psychic attack, moderately disrupting the growing plants while the grass-type screamed with an enormous headache.

"Suicune, another Surf! Meganium, umm, try a Soothing Scent on Espeon!" Crystal said, hoping it would work this time. She wished pokemon had a larger number of attacks in their arsenals, or perhaps just that she had taught her pokemon better ones before this match. Then again, in a double battle a sleeping pokemon could be even more of a liability than a fainted one.

Unfortunately for her, the spores approached Espeon, who was still wedged in the ground, quite slowly; slowly enough that Red was able to recall it and summon his Snorlax to fall asleep in its place. Not that Crystal noticed any difference; it had looked asleep the moment it came out. As Suicune roared again, another wave of cold water washed over Meganium and Snorlax alike: it was difficult to tell who among them had fared worse from the attack.

And then Pikachu fell out of the sky, landing on Meganium's head and sending its enormous neck plummeting into to the ground; it would not get back up this match. Crystal recalled her fainted pokemon, then in a single motion reached for her poke ball.

"Arcanine, come out and use Extremespeed!" The great orange maned dog with the stripes of a Raikou was summoned beside Suicune: two of the four legendary dogs (and these two were dogs with some feline features, not the other way around like Entei and Raikou) were fighting on Crystal's side. "And Suicune, Ice Beam Snorlax!"

Unlike the typical Extremespeed target, Pikachu was too small for Arcanine to simply ram it with its whole body: instead, it trampled the small rodent with its left legs one by one. But like the ordinary version of the attack, it struck before even the fastest pokemon could launch its own attack. Pikachu's cheeks had begun to sparkle, but Suicune was thereby saved from the impending Thunderbolt. Suicune, unable to Surf with Arcanine as its teammate (at least, not without doing more harm than good) instead fired a beam of ice into Snorlax's stomach, which was all but harmlessly absorbed into the large normal-type's blubber.

Although Snorlax's eyes were closed, it was clearly not at rest: it stood up, stomped the ground with its enormous bulk, and sent a massive Earthquake Suicune and Arcanine's way. Suicune jumped nimbly across the cracks in the ground without a care in the world, but Arcanine roared in fiery pain as it fell helplessly into a newly opened hole.

Red recalled his fainted Pikachu and returned his Espeon to the battlefield: its recovery options weren't as necessary with Snorlax as its teammate, but it did have an attack of its own. On a signal from its trainer, psychic waves battered Arcanine's concentration and health alike. It wasn't a flashy attack, however; only Arcanine's roar of pain told the crowd that it had been hit at all.

And it was looking pretty hurt. Crys had begun to wonder how much longer it would last this match: if it fainted, did she have a chance of winning without it? Then again, if this was the case she had nothing to lose. "Arcanine, Close Combat Snorlax! Suicune, Ice Beam Espeon!" Another beam of narrow ice shot Espeon's way, freezing its pointed, catlike ears. Red wondered what the point was of crippling its hearing: if anything, given the psychic pokemon's superb awareness and mental link with its trainer, the attack was just blocking out distractions. Arcanine's strike was far more dangerous: the great dog headbutting Snorlax and making fists of its paws looked almost comical, but experience had taught Red that an attack like this was crushing, and it wasn't as though a sleeping pokemon could Rest off the damage.

Instead, it retaliated against Arcanine, Returning the prior attack with a strong push of its own that threw Arcanine into the ground, taking advantage of the many holes in the earth which Earthquakes had created over the course of the match: even an Arcanine's determination wasn't enough for it to get back up.

Crystal sadly recalled her Arcanine: this match wasn't looking good for her. If she was somehow to pull this out against Red, she'd need an amazing last pokemon, but she had led with her three strongest options. (Except maybe for Hitmonchan, but she didn't want Hitmonchan out against Espeon, let alone Mewtwo.)

She hadn't used it yet this tournament, but it had been with her through many a match: it was time to put her faith in her final pokemon. "Suicune, another Ice Beam! Marowak, Bonemerang Espeon!" The final pokemon which Crystal had sent out bore some resemblance to a Kangaskhan, if the Kangaskhan in question were undead. It bore a skull for a helmet, said to be its mother's, and a thick, clublike bone in its hand.

Espeon glowed with the light of the sun: it didn't look like it, but it had much claim to being a solar pokemon as Umbreon did a lunar one. It was mildly rejuvenated, but was soon re-injured by a fresh coat of ice shot from Suicune's mouth. Marowak followed it by hurling its large bony weapon low to the ground in the traditional Australian manner, striking each of Espeon's ears as it flew past, painfully shattering the ice as the weapon returned to its owner.

Had Espeon not recovered earlier this turn, had the sun been less bright or the battle held in prime-time, it would have fainted right then and there. Instead, Espeon had recovered just enough hit points to remain standing, while Snorlax, forgetting it was still asleep or simply finishing a dream, lay down and attempted to Rest. It was a strong pokemon and used to fighting in its sleep, but no pokemon could fight as well in this condition as they could when awake.

Espeon did not seek to recover this time around; perhaps it was too distressed from the recent deafening Bonemerang to try, or perhaps Red simply preferred another attack to an endless effort at rejuvenation. Psychic waves oscillated again Suicune's way; the great beast had been fighting for a long time, and Red hoped it would soon give way to exhaustion.

"Suicune, Rest! Marowak, another Bonemerang!" Red was surprised to see Suicune shut its eyes like a Snorlax, stretch its paws out and fall to the ground. And then, just as quickly, he was surprised to see it stand back up, fully rejuvenated and spitting out the seeds of a Chesto Berry. He was even more confounded to see Marowak throw its bone boomerang in a wide circle, striking both its foes: Espeon was knocked out in a single strike, while Snorlax again looked like it didn't notice, although Red again knew better: Snorlax weren't the type to show their wounds, but it was surely hurting under its thick fat.

Snorlax opened its eyes, and on a signal from its trainer, went promptly back to sleep, healed of its many wounds. Red opened his final poke ball of the match, not that there was any question who he would use: again, the half-human, half-Mew experiment called Mewtwo appeared in the battle, prepared to carry its savior and trainer one step closer to another championship.

Crystal had no doubt this pokemon was coming, but she still seemed more afraid of the pokemon before her than elated over finally knocking out another foe. She wondered if she had a way to win against a Snorlax and a Mewtwo, both of them at full health; her pokemon were also uninjured, but they didn't have nearly as much in the way of raw power.

But she couldn't think that way. Not if she wanted to win. These pokemon had got her here, after all: if they were weak now, that just meant they had to get stronger! "Suicune, another Calm Mind! Marowak, Swords Dance!" Suicune focused some more, the crystal over its head changing its shape into a perfect outline of the Eye of Horus: a strange symbol which had lead to much speculation about Ho-oh, Suicune, and ancient Egypt, but a symbol which in these modern times only meant increased Special power. Marowak followed up by carelessly juggling its club. Red briefly was half-worried for its safety, while halfway hoping it would knock itself out during the strange Swords (or clubs) Dance, but the veteran user of Bonemerang was catching each throw perfectly.

Not that he had any intention of letting Marowak use that attack again this fight. Mewtwo interrupted Marowak's dance by enveloping the ground-type's skull in an enormous Ice Beam; the ice and Marowak's skull alike soon cracked as the Thick Club landed on the pokemon's head. Snorlax, again asleep, was less than compliant with Red's hopes: rather than attacking Marowak, the sleeping and disoriented pokemon charged towards Suicune, forcing it to the ground with a powerful shove, but not one nearly powerful enough to knock it out of the match.

Now it was Red's turn to worry. "Marowak, Bonemerang on Mewtwo! Suicune, hit it with another Ice Beam!" Crystal shouted with excitement, while rather than communicating his words through his link with his pokemon, Red instead had Mewtwo's cries of pain sent telepathically his way. Crystal had stopped her gleeful orders to ask if Red was okay, while his pokemon was flailing around desperately just to keep itself warm.

Yet Red battled Mewtwo's agony with his own mind, sending it an order of "Psystrike." Mewtwo held its giant imitation of a Kadabra's spoon and twirled it, ripping the air with a pink vortex of mental energy which tore into Marowak, sending the injured brown marsupial flying into the psychic shield at the edge of the arena: it followed it up by falling skull-first into the ground. Marowak had fainted.

Snorlax, dreaming of endless fruits on trees so tall it needed to knock them over by the roots, stomped the ground with another Earthquake. It injured Suicune even more, but knocked out its own teammate in Mewtwo, to the surprise and shock of its trainer. Then again, Mewtwo didn't have much longer to battle anyway, the way things were going.

After the attack, Snorlax opened its eyes, waiting for Red's next order.

"Suicune, Surf!" Unhindered by fears of knocking out teammates, for they were already gone, Suicune roared and washed away the tall grass of the regulation battlefield with an enormous wave of water which towered above even Snorlax. The awakened normal pokemon rolled to the arena's corner and roared in pain, badly injured.

Yet it wasn't enough; indeed, it was at this point that Red began to taste his victory and Crystal likewise knew the match was lost. Red signaled another Return, but he didn't need to: Snorlax hadn't even bothered to turn around before laying into the legendary beast one last time with its plushlike teal hands. Suicune slammed against the ground, whimpered one last time, and fainted.

With the match over, two things happened which were not noteworthy to the pokemon world, but which shocked the friends (most of them overlapping) and family of both trainers watching the match. The first was that Crystal, defeated, showed a few – not too many, but a few – tears at the sight of her defeat. The second was that Red, ever the stoic, emotionless hermit, actually smiled – and not just for the cameras, but that rare genuine smile he had not shown in years.

One more match. One more match and he would have a voice at last.

Red recalled his Snorlax and crossed the arena: nothing would rotate this time and it still felt a little weird. Crystal had grown so strong since he last met her: maybe if there had been another of the special fields that had marked the first two rounds, she'd be the one competing in the final. She always did adapt well to strange challenges.

"I don't want your sympathy. You won, I lost, that's all there is to it."

Again, as he had with Cynthia, Red could speak no words, but handed her a handwritten note – not one of consolation, but of praise: "I can't believe I won."

Crystal smiled, still wiping the tears from her eyes. The match had been close. If only Suicune's Surf had hit just a little harder... but there was no use speculating like that. There would be other tournaments, and she had more than adequately proven her skill. She had dreamed of a championship, and she pushed her pokemon like they were going for one, but she expected a first-round defeat. With a smile and a finger pointed onwards, she spoke: "Good luck in your next match!"

And Red, thinking of his comrade, close friend, and rival – the girl he had met when she robbed him of two badges – signed "Thanks" to Crystal, hoping she remembered what it meant. It wasn't that he had grown weaker in Mount Silver, but the world was growing stronger and learning to battle in new ways. He wasn't even used to double matches yet, and now he was to prepare for his first real Triple Battle. (Using multiple pokemon at once against Team Rocket didn't really count.)

He had made it to the final, but tomorrow he'd need all the luck he could get.


	15. Match 15!  Battle for a Wish!

Red and Green had fought many battles over their careers, but never one with such high stakes or before anywhere near this many cameras. Red had avoided Green in their first Kanto championship due to her loss to Professor Oak, and had disappeared soon after. He usually won their scrimmages after his return, but full-fledged battles were rare. Then again, although it was a long time ago, Green had beaten him in a real match, which wasn't something that many trainers could ever claim.

Then again, this wouldn't be the usual kind of battle. Six on six was one thing; yes, most matches were three on three, but a world championship final could allow no less. But triple battles were strange things, uncommon even in their native Unova, let alone in the region both contestants called home. And to make things even stranger, the rules committee had decided that previous matches depended too much on prediction and move selection, and that therefore that the final would not limit pokemon to four different attacks to be registered before the match: any move they could remember and any weird technique they could pull out of nowhere would be fair game.

The arena was wider today: some of the closer seats had been temporarily removed to make room, for in a true triple battle only the pokemon in the center can hit all their opponents. Red and Green were both surprised by the new width of the field, but given the size of her first three pokemon Green was delighted; it wouldn't do to make one of them fly under the others.

"Articuno, Zapdos, Moltres! Let the Legendary Birds bring me victory!" Green shouted, tossing three poke balls high into the sky, which soon crackled with lightning, ice, and fire in a manner which recalled the Acid Rain stadium in which Green had defeated Palmer, or perhaps a Lugia's Elemental Blast. Three birds of blue and yellow and fiery orange appeared, each with wings that reflected their types: Articuno's soft, yet feathered in a pattern which recalled icicles; Zapdos's bifurcated and spiked, its feathers standing on end from the charges running through them; Moltres's on fire, burning eternally yet never consumed.

One could be forgiven for expecting some sort of combination attack, or for Ho-Oh or Lugia to appear in the sky because of the fact that Green, like Lawrence the Collector, had gathered the three and summoned them at once. Green did not announce any such moves yet, but Red had been studying myths for a reason: the threat was there.

Red selected three pokemon, but was still yet to reveal the final two pokemon he possessed in this tournament. Espeon, Snorlax, Pikachu, and Mewtwo had brought him this far, and three of them were numbered among his lead team for this match. Snorlax would face Articuno, Pikachu would center the line against Zapdos, and Mewtwo would match up with Moltres. His three pokemon were far more diverse in size and shape: Snorlax was as enormous as the bird gods it was fighting, while Mewtwo was the size of a grown man and Pikachu barely visible against the tall grass.

"Articuno, Zapdos, Moltres, combine your efforts! Elemental Blast on Pikachu!" Some of those watching the battle would call this attack overkill, but Red was not among them. As the small rodent was engulfed in a massive spiral of fire, ice, and lightning many times its size, he wished it had managed a Discharge, but was thankful it had drawn his opponents' attention and left Mewtwo and Snorlax untouched. Red threw two signs his pokemon's way – one in his left hand to Snorlax, the other in his right to Mewtwo.

Green understood Red's sign language well; as a childhood friend, she was one of the reasons he had developed it to begin with. But the signs he used in battle were not the normal ones for "Psystrike" and "Rock Slide" nor indeed for any of the myriad of attacks he'd discuss with her in ordinary conversation; he came up with new ones each match, just to keep his opponents guessing. It was one of the many reasons she admired him.

Snorlax reached into the ground and picked up a series of rocks, which it threw one after another with the motion of sliders in baseball, curving with such speed and sharpness that they bounced off Articuno's wing to hit Zapdos as well, crippling them both. Mewtwo focused its efforts on Moltres, but the firebird shrugged off the sudden feeling of force against its stomach from Mewtwo's direction. It felt like a punch, and Moltres wouldn't be taken down by a mere punch.

"Is that worry I see on your face?" Green teased as Red sent out his next pokemon. He refused to respond because she was absolutely right and he wasn't about to give her the satisfaction of knowing that. Espeon wasn't exactly a good choice to center his pokemon team; it didn't know the kind of broad, sweeping attacks he would've liked to use which could hit all three foes at once. But it was better to have Espeon than his alternatives, both of whom were weak against flying. The small, pink feline, a head taller than Pikachu, walked atop the blades of grass, hissing at the great birds above its head.

"Articuno, Zapdos, Roost! Moltres, Heat Wave!"

"Roost? With two of your pokemon?" Red signed, amusement plain on his face. "Don't have the guts to actually attack me?"

Green shook her head as two of the pokemon landed. It wasn't optimal, but her birds were sturdy enough to survive. "I wonder how many more rocks your Snorlax can throw."

Moltres flapped its enormous wings, breaking off countless tiny embers which dramatically warmed the air. The temperature soon resembled a sauna than even a hot summer day, let alone a pleasant night, at least on most of Red's side of the field. Snorlax's corner remained cool, but was too occupied by the enormous teal beast for his other pokemon to seek cover. Both Espeon and Mewtwo, however, looked to be enduring the heat just fine; it hurt, but they weren't anywhere near fainting.

Mewtwo raised its enormous purple and white tail and shot a laser-like Ice Beam at Zapdos, an attack which would have been devastating were the normally flying pokemon not grounded and if the heat didn't melt and evaporate half the ice before it hit its target, leaving a trail of steam in its wake.

Espeon did not attack; yes, they were roosting now, but Red still feared the destructive power of the legendary birds. And like Pidgey wound themselves when they fly into glass windows, even when they break the window in the process, Red hoped that the attacks of the legends he faced would be blocked against a Light Screen.

Again, Snorlax picked up a pile of rocks after digging through the dirt to the bedrock below the open-air arena. Again Snorlax hurled them, but its control was lacking: they slammed into the grounded Zapdos, but missed Articuno entirely.

"Good idea, Red," Green remarked as she saw the screen go up. "Zapdos, Light Screen! Articuno, Mind Reader on Snorlax! Moltres, Roar!" There would be no damage dealt this round by Green's legendary trio, but this fact didn't make Red feel any better. Espeon's wall of light continued to cover the center of the field, but it grew more solid and double sided as Zapdos sent a stream of bolts its way to fortify its strength. Articuno's eyes turned a deathly red as they focused sharply on Snorlax.

Red made a few signs of his own: again Snorlax gathered the rocks, and again they slammed into Zapdos and Articuno: both looked badly injured this time around. Espeon focused its mental acumen on Zapdos, using its energy to slam it into the ground; it didn't get back up. Mewtwo's cheeks sparked like a Pikachu's and struck Moltres with a crippling bolt from the sky. Moltres didn't struggle to fly so much as hovered in place, but it was inertia as much as anything keeping it airborne. If not for the Light Screen, perhaps it would have fainted in a single shot. Yet despite this powerful attack, when Moltres let out a loud noise as much chirp as roar, Mewtwo fled into Red's poke ball in terror, forcing him to summon his Venusaur for the first time all tournament.

Although he had received it from Professor Oak and owned it nearly as long as he had Poliwrath, Red had preferred to rely on newer captures through the bulk of the Championship. Venusaur had too many weaknesses and it was facing two of them now in Moltres alone. The grass-type stood quite tall and stretched as far as a Charizard: it was one of Kanto's dying megafauna, although not quite as enormous as Kanto's legends told. Despite its name, its blue body did not resemble an ordinary archosaur, but looked more like turtles such as Blastoise, or even amphibians such as Politoed. Then again, like Sceptile and Meganium, it did have a symbiotic relationship with a plant, in this case an enormous, flower atop a thick tree trunk which was thought to be among the earliest known representatives of the angiosperm family.

Espeon would not be face-to-face with another bird this time around: Green didn't fear Snorlax's Rock Slide, but as imposing as using all three birds at once was and as powerful as their combined attack could be, their common weaknesses often made this combination more of a liability than a strength. Instead, she would go with another legend, and an old favorite of hers to boot. "Go, Mew!"

"When did you catch Mew?" Red signed.

"Just after I tricked Team Rocket," Green signed back. "I found the real Mew soon after and caught it with Ditto's poke ball."

"Wow, you had it this whole time? Why didn't you use it?"

"I did. You thought I was using Ditto."

The pink cat emerged from Green's poke ball, floating gently above the grass in midair. It bore some resemblance to Espeon, who it faced, but it was as though the same general concept had been tackled by two different designers: in face, tail, and coloring, it looked more like the Mewtwo who would be facing off against it if not for Moltres' roar.

"Articuno, Sheer Cold! Mew, Shadow Ball! Moltres, Heat Wave!" Snorlax possessed a thick coat of blubber which usually protected it quite well from ice attacks, and had won many battles this way, but this meant little against the power of a god. The very molecules in its body stopped moving as an enormous chill surrounded it, bringing it from barely damaged to unconscious in an instant. As Snorlax fell, Mew swept its long tail from beneath Articuno to beneath Moltres to gather their bird-shaped shadows, then combined them into an abyssal black orb which it hurled into Espeon. Moltres flapped its wings again to heat up the arena further, setting Venusaur aflame and briefly convincing Espeon it had been hurled into the depths of hell.

Yet from the depths of hell, it continued to fight! Espeon did not flinch at the Light Screen before it, but strode through it, then conjured an enormous explosive out of thin air and defeated Articuno in an impact measured in gigatons. Venusaur was silent this round, its animal body unmoving. Green wondered briefly if it had used Calm Mind, then noticed the glowing plant pointing Espeon's way and the fact that Espeon didn't seem exhausted in the slightest.

"Energy Trans!" She shouted in realization as she recalled her half-melted, fainted Articuno, and Red did likewise to his Snorlax. "I forgot about that little trick."

Red smiled and signed his response. "It's no Rain Dance or Energy Burn, but in the hands of a skilled trainer..."

Green nodded, gripping her second-to-last poke ball. She had hoped to break the game open with those three, but two of them were gone now and she had only taken out two of Red's pokemon in exchange. Not that there was any question who to summon: Ditto's versatility meant it was much better saved for the end. "Wigglytuff, go!" she yelled, summoning a pink and white pokemon half-balloon, half-rabbit in appearance, although its proportions (save for its tiny limbs) more resembled a rotund man in a rabbit suit then a Nidoran or Buneary.

Red nodded and returned Mewtwo to the field, this time in Snorlax's place. Its body was facing Wigglytuff, but it was not Wigglytuff who had met its piercing stare. The message simultaneously went telepathically from Mew and Mewtwo alike to their trainers: "Let me switch."

The response was also simultaneous, although only Green said it aloud: "This isn't a rotation battle" - although if it was they probably would have given their pokemon another excuse. This wasn't a fight either of them wanted, for the safety of the crowd as much as anything.

"Mew, Wish!, Wigglytuff, Double Team! Moltres," Green paused for a moment before ordering Moltres' move: against Light Screen, even Heat Wave didn't do the trick. Yet in the darkness of this prime-time final, she wondered if Venusaur could in fact recover from her attacks, and even Espeon had to be taking some damage from this succession of flames. "use Heat Wave again!"

She was shocked to find that, while her Wigglytuff cloned itself and Mew wished upon a shooting star, her opponents had done nothing whatsoever to strike back. Indeed, Red seemed as mesmerized by the star as Mew was: he wanted that wish badly. Like Arceus, Mewtwo created light, setting a miniature sun in the palm of his hand and placing it in the center of the arena. The star was so tiny it looked like its fusion reaction could only last five turns or so, but it illuminated the field and brightened Moltres' flames.

It had not brightened them enough, for Venusaur's plant soon took in enough sunlight to heal away the energy, and Espeon's jewel did likewise: one attack was called Synthesis and the other Morning Sun, but it seemed as though they were one and the same.

Yet Red had unwittingly sealed his own Venusaur's defeat as he sought to heal it, and perhaps his Espeon's too. "Mew, Brick Break the barrier! And I guess hit Espeon too. Moltres, Overheat! Wigglytuff, another Double Team!" As Moltres flapped its enormous wings and Mew skillfully dismantled the wall keeping them apart, Green looked to the side to see Mewtwo doing likewise to the other side, laying into Wigglytuff with some kind of karate move - the real one, not a clone. Wigglytuff shrieked in pain and fell over, then crawled back to its feet. The barriers dismantled, Espeon sent an enormous ball of shadow Mew's way; with the sun in the center of the arena, everything seemed to cast a larger shadow, and the ball was bigger then ever. Mew reeled from the hit, but soon healed, rejuvenating as it was smashed with the healing light of its own shooting star.

And then, intensified by the blazing sunlight, Moltres flapped its wings and Venusaur was charred into a crispy facsimile of the pokemon which had once stood there, covered in black, and Espeon looked badly burnt as well.

As Moltres devoured a White Herb and Red recalled his Venusaur, it became clear he had made a devastating mistake; it was time to change the weather. At least Poliwrath only faced one bird now, not three, and that one bird was weak against water.

He wished desperately he could shout "Poliwrath, go!" but could only hold up a poke ball as silently as ever, his hand silent to occupied with a toss to speak. Red summoned his final pokemon – his starter pokemon - facing Moltres on the side furthest from Wigglytuff. Poliwrath was blue in color, and despite its frog eyes was less a traditional amphibian in shape than a blob with fists and a spiral in the center.

Red was less than pleased by Poliwrath's position: he wished this were a rotation battle, for Wigglytuff was starting to really scare him. Against a full Double Team, even Moltres was only a diversion, but it was a powerful diversion all the same. He made three signs to his pokemon, but none were attacks aimed Wigglytuff's way.

"Moltres, another Overheat! Wigglytuff, Double Team! Mew, let's win the match now – you use Overheat too, even Poliwrath won't last long!"

Unfortunately for Green's hopes of a quick victory, Red was no longer nearly as stupid as when she had robbed him of his badges; he was more than prepared for the twin Overheats. Espeon took in the last of the sun's rays, rejuvenating itself once again after Moltres had let loose its devastating flares. They were the last rays not because the sun was fading already, but because Mewtwo soon did an awkward dance still more graceful than the Blastoise who had invented this technique, and rain clouds gathered in the sky. And the rain poured down so ferociously upon the field that they extinguished Mewtwo's earlier miniature sun.

Moltres flapped its wings, while Mewtwo rubbed its fur with its long tail at lightning speed to create massive friction, but the water turned to steam and absorbed most of both attacks: Poliwrath and Espeon still stood, a bit wounded but nowhere near beaten. And then Poliwrath showed the world why "Wrath" was not a joke appellation, why Red had kept it on his team for so long, gathering and riding the rain as high as Moltres flew in order to give its beak a devastating wet punch. And then the bird of flames, the last of the trio of legends with which Green had opened the match, finally fainted. The match was tied again, and to make matters worse, Mew had exhausted its power trying to overheat its foes.

Green was not despondent as she recalled Moltres: on the contrary, winning this way would have simply made things too easy. Three on three and one legend apiece was much more fitting. "Ditto, go!" she yelled, and a pink blob emerged from her final poke ball. She would've liked to get over her fear of Ho-oh this match, but it made no sense to try – not in a match like this, not against Poliwrath in the rain.

"Ditto, Transform into Mewtwo! Mew, Thun..." Green began, then stopped; after an Overheat, Thunder wouldn't be enough to beat Poliwrath. "On second thought, Nasty Plot! Wigglytuff, Substitute!" It wasn't the deadliest array of attacks, but there was more to battle than power alone, and soon she would bring Red's fears to life.

Her opponent would not be nearly so cautious. Before Green's Ditto could transform, it was struck by Poliwrath charging on a jet of water, and Espeon followed up with a large, orange beam of raw energy. Ditto didn't faint, but it was lucky it didn't. Mewtwo, too distant to try to strike Ditto, threw an Aura Sphere - a ball of pure light the size of a basketball – in Wigglytuff's general direction, for the moving blurs that pokemon had become left it impossible to tell which if any among them were the true Wigglytuff.

None of them appeared wounded by the attack: it had probably missed completely. The cascading blurs shrunk to a pile of three plushies, the type one could easily expect to find at a nearly sold-out store or on a casual collector's shelf. An exclamation point shot up behind Mew's head as though it had invented a new way to regain its energy; in reality, it had done this countless times before. Finally, Ditto, wounded badly, began to shift in shape to something like its teammate to the center of the arena, but much more like that in the far corner – yet like a fighting game character fighting one's self, its color shifted so the two could be told apart: its stomach and tail were not purple, but a bright yellowish green.

At this transformation, Mewtwo redirected its fury, giving its Ditto counterpart an angry yet sorrowful glance, unsure whether to think of it as a thief or a misguided fool. For all his prowess in battle and all Red had tried to convince himself otherwise, he was firmly of the opinion that he was an unholy abomination and that being Mewtwo was suffering.

Red began to regret not targeting Wigglytuff earlier, but there could be no further attacks its way. Not against a false Mewtwo, and worse, Mew also numbered among his opponents. Being able to know any move made fighting Mew scary enough; being able to use whichever one came to mind was far more terrifying. He just hoped it wasn't too late, because Wigglytuff would get even scarier. With the thought of being defeated fresh in his mind, he signaled three attacks to his pokemon, each of them directed at the small feline from whose DNA Mewtwo had been born.

"Wigglytuff," Green paused. She would have liked to use Last Resort, but Last Resort was all but impossible in this format: she'd have to use each and every other attack it could possibly learn first. Then again, given her next move, it probably didn't matter. "Thunder on Mewtwo! Mew, Explosion! Dittotwo, another Thunder, this one on Poliwrath!"

Again, propelled by growing jets of water, Poliwrath swam and skidded through the rainy field, ramming Mew with its spiral stomach and drenching it in the process. Mewtwo followed Poliwrath's assault with a Shadow Ball, smaller than those in the blistering sunlight, but with Mew's own shadow hurling it the attack seriously hurt. And as Mew glowed white and began to crack, Espeon finished the job with a Shadow Ball of its own.

The three plush Wigglytuff all began to sparkle across their whole bodies: presumably, the real one hidden deep within the steam was doing likewise. Electricity from the three combined in the center of the triangle between them, then arced high into the sky and down to strike Mewtwo with a paralyzing jolt. On the other side of the arena, another Mewtwo raised its green tail and shot a bolt of its own through the pouring rain, striking Poliwrath with a devastating blow.

Yet neither of the two had fainted. For the first time this match, Green was losing – and it hurt all the worse because she had been so close to victory. To make matters worse, her pokemon instinctively moved to the center. It wasn't that they could hide in the corners, because if they didn't occupy the center, one of Red's pokemon would: it was just that being down to two pokemon left her team vulnerable.

Or at least it left her Ditto vulnerable, for Wigglytuff, shielded by three substitutes, was anything but an easy target.

"Wigglytuff, Work Up! You'll need more power to win this match. Mewtwo," Green paused for a moment: it was tempting, easy, and all too expected to try and take down Poliwrath, which meant that it was absolutely the wrong play in this situation. "Protect!"

Again, three pokemon sent a series of attacks towards a single target, a combination of rushing, falling water and Shadow Balls (Green privately wished the two of them had not chosen so many psychic pokemon; this attack was getting tiring) but this time it was not targeting Mew but a facsimile of its clone. And this time, rather than trying to explode, the target surrounded itself in a barrier of energy, blocking the three attacks so casually that one could be forgiven for expecting it to fire back with a powerful display of lightning.

While Mewtwo blocked its assault, the three plush Wigglytuff clapped their hands against each other and sparkled with increased power.

By this point in the match, Red had grown tired of rain: even Poliwrath was hurt more than it gained, for it allowed Green to target her Thunder perfectly. He was thankful the clouds were slowing: one more round and the rain would stop. Then again, Green wasn't the only trainer who could abuse thunder.

It would help if his Mewtwo wasn't too paralyzed to answer the sign. As Green shouted for Wigglytuff to use Thunder on Poliwrath, and Dittotwo to do likewise on the real Mewtwo, Mewtwo stood unmoving, not even recoiling in pain when the blast struck it. Poliwrath got in another boosted Aqua Jet the false Mewtwo's way before Wigglytuff's bolt knocked it out, while his frustrated Espeon shattered Wigglytuff's substitutes with three well-placed stars, then flung another into Mewtwo's clone for good measure. If only Swift did enough to take down the real thing!

"You broke my Substitute! I was gonna selfdestruct and win next turn!" Green pouted.

Red recalled his Poliwrath, then signed back a retort about true Pokemon Masters not needing to blow their pokemon up to win. The triple battle had ended: it was doubles play now, and Red was relieved to get to this phase, even if his two remaining pokemon looked a bit more worse for wear than his foe's. Not that they couldn't heal it off, but if Mewtwo could, so could Ditto's imitation, and Wigglytuff could probably get away with resting even if it wasn't hiding a Chesto Berry in its fur.

"Wigglytuff, Work Up! Ditto, Psych up on your teammate!"

It was the one attack Red had hoped Green had forgotten to research. Mewtwo weren't exactly well-known, and all his hopes this match depended on that technique slipping her mind. Unless. In desperation, he canceled his previous command of recover and sent a thought of "Miracle Eye, quick!" to Mewtwo, who eagerly obliged while Espeon connected with a Psych Up on Wigglytuff, psychically copying the boosted power it had gained and growing so strong that Wigglytuff, who had not boosted its defenses, was left weak and vulnerable to a well-connected swift.

Green shuddered. Was this the end? Wigglytuff didn't have time to power up again, and Mewtwo could hit it just fine now. It'd be lucky to last another turn, especially with Espeon knowing Swift.

If this didn't work, it was over. "Wigglytuff, Protect! Dittotwo, Selfdestruct!" As Wigglytuff rolled up into an oval, egg-like shape resembling a football more than a real ball, Ditto shined with a brilliant light, then tore itself apart in a blinding and powerful blast, leaving only a fainted pink core behind. Espeon, despite the three illusions in which it strove to cloak itself, was caught in the blast in an explosion so strong it ripped through the psychic shield: the pink, twin-tailed cat landed in the arms of scared and thankful fans a few rows back, while a crew of Blissey promptly began work on healing any crowd injuries inflicted by the attack.

The real Mewtwo did not move. It did not attack, perhaps still too paralyzed, perhaps because it had lost focus against the brilliant light of its copy. Yet it did not fall.

"How..." Green wondered aloud, and Mewtwo brushed its thin coat of fur, revealing a bright, many-coated powder which resembled the crushed feathers of Kanto's three legendary birds.

Red looked elated: his Mewtwo, with its Miracle Eye, was about to finish the match. And Green was equally dejected, but she hid that under a brave pose and a pointed finger: this match wasn't over, and she wasn't about to give up before her pokemon did!

"Wigglytuff, let's finish this! Hyper Beam!"

Red gave no sign – he didn't need to with Mewtwo – just sent a single thought to his pokemon: Psystrike.

Even paralyzed, Mewtwo was faster than the glacial pace at which Wigglytuff moved. It half-walked, half-teleported over to its foe and raised its three-fingered hand which began to glow with psychic energy. And then, cloaked in purple light, Mewtwo plunged its hand into its foe's stomach. Wigglytuff fell back on its tiny feet, slowly shrinking as though the air had been let out of it, but it did not faint. The rabbit then opened its tiny mouth and shot forth an impossibly large orange beam which engulfed and defeated Mewtwo.

Green of Pallet Town was World Champion.

The two trainers returned their final pokemon, then each crossed the arena to shake hands. Green struggled to contain her elation – she wouldn't ordinarily try, but Red was in tears, and they had been friends for so long – and sometimes more.

The champion did not know what to say, so she greeted the tearful former champion with the phrase "You fought well," a warm embrace, a handshake and a kiss on the cheek. Red's tears began to slow if not stop as he returned to the side of the arena and the other defeated trainers who had stayed in the area joined him for the championship ceremony.

From the center of the arena, the ground opened up to reveal the world championship trophy: a beautiful silver globe with the continents shown in a brilliant red, yet with a wide bronze band around the equator and again in bronze, the release mechanism of a poke ball.

Green could barely contain her awe as she hosted the trophy aloft – the silver and gold were paint, so she could lift the real thing. As she held it above her head, the trophy opened! Green was as confused as the audience: she hadn't pressed the release mechanism.

The pokemon which emerged from the World Championship Ball was a rare but familiar one, recognized by fans from its appearance at the start of the tournament. A white fairy, with a golden star for a hat, and three teal slips of paper with wishes written on them hanging from its head, emerged when the poke ball's light faded. The tournament's organizers looked as confused as anyone as to how it had snuck in there.

"Champion Green, make your wish." The legend spoke, not with telepathy, but with a high-pitched yet quite human sounding voice. For a few seconds, Green hesitated, staring first at her close friend who she had just beaten, then back to the trophy.

"I wish to rule the world!" She shouted, then turned around to give Red a long, sorrowful and regretful gaze, yet saw not tears but a ball of purple and silver in his hand. In an instant, Green's half poke ball hat, sleeveless light blue shirt and red skirt were replaced with the elaborate robes of Kanto's long-forgotten monarchy, and the fans still in attendance bowed down in adulation: "Long live the Empress!"

Yet no sooner had Jirachi granted Green's wish than was it captured by Red's Master Ball. For a moment, Red considered revoking Green's wish. It was for this eventuality he had been entrusted with the ball in the first place as an emergency measure, after all. But he was not attached to the half-anarchic world which had preceded this tournament, and as for Green, she at least deserved a chance to make her wish come true; he could always revoke her power later.

Instead, he summoned Jirachi himself, then grabbed a thin teal slip of paper from his pocket, wrote down a wish of his own, and fed it to his newest pokemon. And then, for the first time in his life, Red spoke.

"Congratulations, Green. That was an awesome battle. I had a lot of fun this tournament. Thank you everyone!"

I would like to thank my editor, Vethica, for her excellent work in removing the numerous errors I made this NaNoWriMo. This was a lot of fun to write, and I hope you enjoyed this fic!


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